Each night my mantra sounds your name
Which in going round undoes itself in sound
Until all syllables go circling the same.
Night-owls hoo you, dark winds whistle you, clouds
Spell out what letters tout you, only you,
Until all alphabets jumble just the same
In going round, beading prayers of your name.
Crickets crick you, and lapping water begs
The shore until all oceans go echoing your name….
Faces whirl and blur, merging as they do,
Until all faces are your face, identical as eggs.
This mirror-maze of gladness has no end:
Beauty is not beauty that shares not your name.
All surfaces reflect you, only you.