A Flower Maker

A bird once told Rampriya

There's a Flower Maker in your house
Who strings her garlands on the breath
Adoring a hidden man

When fire, sun, and moon go black
Her flowers light one's vision
And in that garden
He beholds all things

In Vain
Rampriya tries to catch that bird
So he can learn directions

But one must laugh at his attempt
To need a map of his own house