Awash

The five skandhas:
     That ship (form)
     The one I love (feeling)
     With its brass and beautiful mahogany (perception)
     Begets a gentle smile (impulse)
     As I marvel at the workmanship (consciousness)
And all is empty
Of a separate self
Like the vast wind
That paints these sails
Held high
With five sturdy masts
So we
Go rollicking
Over the horizons
To 
Who knows where
And such beauty
In a wash
Of teardrops
Caresses
My face
With joy

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