Like a blank slate rests all the world though I see it not so
while I've got scant liking for cold yet I'm longing for snow
might this winter differ from other winters before it?
if the heart's slate's fleetingly blank is there nothing to know?
once again the fragrance of love is picked up by the soul
if anon the heart enjoys inklings has mind yet a role?
does love's chitchat burble like water? or fizz like champagne?
pain & pleasure dart here & yon like a deer in the knoll
where the canvas beckons the brush is there something to do?
where the silence flirts with the flute is the melody new?
golden harp strings sound in the deep might the bhajan unfold?
where pure beauty glints in the eye are there stories a'brew?