Tea Ceremony

1.

Returning from the Ceremony of the Other
I turned to watch the hanging gardens.

2.

I would like to say something of the bees that bumbled
From flower to flower
Covening inseminations,
Hiding their heads
In a lilac fruit,
Breaking their legs
On the ripening of bowers.

3.

I was never there. Always there is this distance
Between the apparition and the thought
That wanders among sounds and whose vocation
Brooks no vision, breaks on nature, brays.

4.

I am never there.