Said the Tea Planter to His Daughter

I dreamed mosquito,
monkey tail, and rock.
In my mouth, a cloud.
When you sleep,
I am a boy journeying with you.
The stars do not shine,
only plug patches
of darkness.
I dreamed a wall of mountains,
a low plain, a plateau.
Along the lower slopes, the rainfall
cleanses the goatskin,
drenches the buffalo.
I dreamed oils,
mud houses,
a triangular pocket.
Live this way and try
to feel.
Fire turns to ash
under moon
and banyan tree.
Your fine hairs whisper
of love as your head
rests in my lap.