Ghost
The boy leaping off a train,
racing through the streets,
his wind-whipped hair
a nest of coal and sapphire
is just an apparition;
the rice he almost starves for
and then spills, the teeming
rain, the thousand angels
singing are mere phantoms
conjured in our hearts
to know what’s real :
the ruby earrings exchanged
for water, belongings tossed
aside are all illusion
guiding us as he was led
to the magnetic tide of love
swept towards itself –
boy to hill
sage to mountain
god to guru –
leaving us the one
uncompromising signature
of truth.