Nothing reminds me better
How little most of it matters
Than a chair like this
In a place like this
How little most of it matters
Than a chair like this
In a place like this
Filled with hubris
And righteousness
And anger
And cleverness
And vitriol
Was I too
Then I encountered Buddha
And the Dao, too
Reflections form a perfect circle
Bringing the past into the present
And the present into the past
I create a history I prefer
Reforming memories I prefer
To remember
I imagine
Fedoras and furs
Cat eyes and horn rims
White gloves and ties
Leaves submerged
Under tangled reflections
On a night lit fantastic
A time to reflect
A time to bask
A time to collect
And recollect
Nostalgia
Mixed with quirkiness
Leavened by wit
And insight