A sacred lotus emerges
from the navel, while you rest
on trembling waves. I am shedding
my leaves.

The knotty hole. Center
of the earth. A shell
breaks inaudibly in the churning pot.

The pledged promise was
deep. Pole's red aurorae stream
in new birth.

Was it necessary to take
an oath under the bo tree-
to become a sacred Buddha?

It sucks. Fake or genuine?
I am searching the faces of whites,
browns and blacks. Who
wants to be buried in a nameless
grave of a soldier?