Buddha., c/o : Edwin Lue-Shing ., and poem by john-wesley harding.,

...rebirths in the air
you taste the s{t}inging chill
of night in the air - it's fresh faced
wa{l}king onto the plains of day;
But by noon it's just hot slow
contemplation, with the world
retreated into the cooler
speculations of the shadows.
By afternoon's end, when the
autumn coloured sunset
is going down behind blossom
padded trees - serenity descends
and the Buddha-wise-smile
comes down, and rolling softly
{feeling without eyes}
it placesits head carefully into the flushed
collar-bone of night, and again
that s{t}inging chill is there,
thick and pregnant as
the rebirths in the air

*** jwh ***