While you sleep in angelic repose,

Yesterday's bloodless stileto digs deep

In the merry-go-round of my mind

As I lie saddened and sleepless

Under the shadows of the night.

Broken bones of sticks and stones

Hurt less than words

That wound an unsettled mind.

Zen masters welcome

A state of injured innocence

Revealing the hard nut of self.

An electric eye to the door of nirvana.


Milt Ehrlich