To the shores of Serendib a lonely sailor
With words and worlds to trade...
Gondwanaland:my mind!
A dancer’s movement-
Just the slightest gesture of a hand-
Sets worlds spinning , in space.
A firewalker’s balance
Holds the planets in orbit.
From here to Paradise,they say,is just forty miles;
One can hear the sound of its fountains.
Broken orange pekoe fumes rich malty coppery tones
As I lift the chipped cup.
Like a colossal stone Buddha
I lie down on my side to sleep,
Ready for my next unenlightened incarnation.
On April full moon nights the fish are said to sing
Off the coast of Batti;
One must stick an oar into the water
And hold the other end to one’s ear.
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