Scent!

In Ylang Ylang, the rostrum of a
Deepest mystery brightly sang, in
The strange mixing of the Jasmine
With the truancy of a light and billowing
Absence, the plum liquor- effervescing
Like poured absinthe-

Streaming through the air-
Like a lapsing steam
Rippling- rippling in my memory
Barely seen- climbing the
Wreathe on wreathe of air

Oh blowing Naiades-
Which onrushing
Move the captive lotus swiftly
Which once was peacefully
Shining in the sun,
You could never drive anything,
As rapidly as this drives my
memory

Admission and prayer;
Singing of the wind through
The trees- that drives the lilies
In their shifting sleep
Cannot drive me as this
Drives me.