LONG LIFE
Long life—--The wild pines want it too.
Passion's red thread is infinite
like the earth,
always under me.
Now I'm 70.
Still alive.
Looking up every night,
and snapping my fingers at time and the promise of love.
Listen! I'd like to give you something.
But what would help?
Self, other, right, wrong,
wasting your life arguing with it.
Face it! You're happy!
How many times do I have to say it?
There is no way not to be who you are, and where.
----IKIYU