A Boon-sugar Cane
What grows on its own within my breast,
That in truth's alone real-
The quintessence of sweetness,
Of which man has its human counterpart
That could however be sapped bitter by desire.
We are both caged alike in eternal bounds,
Albeit he in the vastness of space's stern decree
And I in the shutness of cane-case,
Whence we each draw in each movement
Of the sphere,
A moment of the Great Sweetness,
Of which the least bees buzz
As God's greatness in the small,
Circumambulating
My site of manifestation
Not as stale ritual of desire but primeval harmony.
Gold has in it no life of the giver
But despite my non form,
We are always tasting together, man and me.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
Added by Poetry Lover
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