Two Masters on the Great Expanse (A Collage Poem)



Why make so much of fragmentary blue1
What we call ‘mind’ is not something that exists elsewhere;2

 in here and there a bird, or butterfly,1
so without being swept away and following wherever it leads,2

or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,1
look directly into its face, its very own essence—2

when heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?1
at that […]