A sky of slate above my head,
The earth, a fertile womb,
A ragged pathway beckons me;
I slip into the gloom.
Cold the air and rough the trail
That leads me on my way,
Into woods and out of time,
Retreating from the fray.
I seek surcease in solitude
From sorrows that have grown.
I need a tranquil resting place
In regions yet unknown.
Now, stepping through the opening
That leads to other realms,
I ponder nonduality
And fall back, overwhelmed.
