This Only - Aga Zaryan

A valley and above it forests in autumn colors

A voyager arrives, a map led him here

Or perhaps memory

Once, long ago, in the sun

When the first snow fell, riding this way

He felt joy, strong, without reason

Joy of the eyes

Everything was the rhythm

Of shifting trees, of a bird in flight

Of a train on the viaduct, a feast of motion

He returns years later, has no demands

He wants only one, most precious thing:

To see, purely and simply, without name

Without expectations, fears, or hopes

At the edge where there is no I or not-I