Karma

Like the unsettled dust
It beats the light and darkness
To reach the recipient
Be it now or later
Be it in any part of the universe,
As cold as the Vostok breeze
As hot as El Azizia
Or interspersed with both
The residue of karma
Leaves us not.
Until the thoughts unwoven
One by one
With each strand dies with an end
No root to hold upon
Until then this unwritten law
Trails us ever.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 150510.