A Toast

Here's to cool nights and quiet days,
To whisky and the sound of crickets
And  thunder in the distance,

Here's to the gold in my glass
And exhaled dragons that carry
The sweet scent of rememberence,
And the dull agony in my bones.

To the fallen moth,
The watching crows,
The hungry dogs,
The engorged sows,

Here's to learning the words,
Acting the part,
To liberty in a cage and freedom in a nightmare.

Here's to the fire in my throat.
And the frost in my chest,
May they embrace,
Like long lost lovers
In every cliche ever written.
May they be happy with one another.

And to Dharma!
Here's to Dharma, to Karma,
And all the Mantras that have ever been sung.
May they resound until the last gong,
Is rung by the last orphan,
On the last hilltop,
For the last sun.