I split the wood,
Grind the dried leaves and lit them,
The smoke rises beautifully,
A signal summoning the ancestors.
Tarry a little and I will be there.
Even not by the tree, I can still see,
Messages coming in droves,
Through the fire, the smoke speaks,
Through the land, the undulating landscape twerks,
Through the wind, the bathing wind reels,
Through the water, separated tiny by my tongue, tingling!
I get to hear from all at once,
Everything speaks to me in unison,
With great ingenuity, I linger with the loudest
And soon am wise.
15th November, 2015