It's that time again.
The click of the clock arm says so.
The blink of your eye.
A deep inhalation.
The homesickness you've had since childhood stirs again,
becomes a new zenith inside you.
It will go unnoticed by most everyone
-- this slow pushing-off from the shore you're doing --
but it's time to leave the bones of anything we've called a "failure"
to bleach beneath this summer's New Sun.
Your gradual merging
with the world on the other side of these green branches
is the same mind-to-mind transmission as Bodhidharma's.
Though it is high noon on the longest day of the year
this solar feast is not a departure but an arrival.
It is a way-station as you take back up
the ancient art of washing the self clean
in the river Numina Terra.