They talk in slow dreams on river
As the boatman shouts at evening
And shadows play in the banyan.
They forget the banyan is dream
And men shuffle about in dream
And boats bloat on river’s dream.
They forget theirs is asexual god
Dreaming as stone in a sanctum.
They forget they are but fragment
From a mother whose wholeness
Was lost to a fragmented memory
And only a cold river remembers.