The aging body churns
as if the spirit that is growing strong
might need protection--
mail to keep the punishment away,
flagellation of thoughts not worthy,
stung by a whipping
that will not be forgotten.
My voice is nasal and raw
from crying.
I cannot comprehend the way past
rivers and ferrymen.
I have given away so many coins
I must wait and pray
with my hands cupped
as a beggar
or silent
in meditation
for wisdom to bless me
with riches of a youthful mind.
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