Encountering metta
Yonder the moon
Ascends like a
Glowing lamp.
The stars are
Half lit candles.
I march
Under the green arcade
In search of
Loving-kindness. . . metta.
The blue azure
Draw lines with clouds
Over the horizon.
Dew drops are oozing
One by one.
This is the
Mid-watch of night.
Birds are singing lullabies
Flowers are blooming in secret
Flora is in a deep sleep
Casting its leaves, branches downward.
Here underneath the sky
Lies the silent of life
Where which I encountered the
Loving -kindness
"metta."
