So this is what it feels like.
To be free from being
the bereaved husband,
the teacher, the poet
or the foreigner.
Draped in the roots
of suffering, day after day.
I thought I would stay a while.
And learn how to conquer
the three knowledges.
If you don’t mind?
If you do.
All that drags me
back is now cut.
And I’ll be on my way.
​