simonhlilly

TERRACOTTA ARMY
( for kenza)

Who would not smile, immortal now and beside comrades?
(We are all clay, for the most part unfired, liable to dissolution, unremembered.)
In silent order, under cool earth, set to wait, bellies full, what could be better?
Dreaming of heaven is, perhaps, as close as one can get, without a girl.
The way of Tao is a mystery of dust and the sound of distant waters.
The whispers of the tourists, the cicada click of camera shutters,
The passage of sun and moon like the passing of emperors and empires.
Not quite outside of time, we count our ranks like the monks, mantras.
No need of other weapons: all die before us, our far off stares, our calm smiles.

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