By an early autumn morning’s rainbows
reprised in the rainbows
of midsummer’s late afternoon—
one in perfect happiness,
the other in perfect sorrow—
so comes from the remembered valley
on the whispered prayer of sunlight,
a dream, declared to River Sky
in which there is no shadow’s slippery promise:
where I first beheld you
and behold, beneath you,
struggling from the water into a cloud,
the purple basilisk which comes but once
before the symbol is dissolved.
Copyright (c) 2003 by Tulku Urgyan Tenpa Rinpoche. Rights reserved.
