the blessed day will come when we take up residence in love street,
having sold the poverty of our riches to make all ends meet.
getting rid of the past is not so easy as one might think;
one must live in the present with a fidelity quick as a wink.
the now is a treasure which requires surrendering ambition:
the more you want it, the more it eludes your simple attention.
the now is complete in observing a spear of summer grass,
but you must lean and loaf, and assume all things must pass.
the long breath rises and gradually falls away to a pause;
all thought and concern and earnest desire are now a past cause.
our path of remembrance keeps one focused in relative comfort,
as long as the living flame of love consumes all mental effort.
darvish now thinks the better plan is to burn his house to the ground;
that he live his life singing his songs on love street newly found!
