The sepulchrous howl is not a whit of wisdom
Shanked in utilitarian moss; it is given green.
To be sought as green; to match the inner lilt
Of verisimilitudinous graffiti; it likens
Hearth to the claw of day; to seek when green
Enough for the tendrils of day to unpause and
Show feigned delight; such is the green of
Moss; the musk is content to stay put till dawn.
“The musk is in the deer, but it seeks it not within itself: it wanders in quest of grass” – Kabir; translated by Rabindranath Tagore.