A hope
that someday I shall sprout

like a tree
on the edge of a remote hillside.

A hope
someday a Queen-of-the-Night

shall bloom in my chest
and suck all the smoke

I have inhaled
in these malignant cities.

A hope that someday
a just born brook shall clean

and wash
bacteria of greed in me.

A hope that someday
a Buddha meditating in the niche of a cairn

by the heap of the city
garbage shall shake his limbs

and walk away towards a village of eternity
to take another birth

to save me
from the shame of becoming a glacier.