As soon as death comes, I shall shift focus to another body. The sea of humanity even millenia hence is mine, for I will come again and again to be one with my own, springing from the yesterbud to the future bloom, held in love and life undulating through unnumbered seasons of softening spring and brightening summers, till the last and the least of my brethren go home in peace. Then shall liberation be from the ephemeral to the everlasting, to the reality that ever shone through monsoon clouds that rained love and loss over and over again.
Photo : Old man, shorn of hair, in the rear of the frame is me. Then there is the better half of me, intermediate, and myself, replicated youthfully, in the fore.
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