When It Is Winter

When It Is Winter Whence from shine the seasons to whom and to where High on snow peaked mountains sits the Buddha under a fir tree Exalted warm in the glow of change and stillness he mediates Never ending contradictions assembles frost transcends right there In the heat of the desert Northern lights shed their guidance To similar truth’s complementation seek meaningful sense In abandon vast perception’s years cycle from our point of views Swift within and without riches and scrap heaps of dissimilar hues When periods swell and spell interchange across planets and orbit In constant revolution vison blind folded deceptions and ruses No one come high tides water or drought can simply absorb it The winter is summer as spring turns to autumn and perspective Emerges in harmony when my lights in the South levitate from Reclusion where wise humans freeze sweat which is highly subjective