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Lyn-Purcell Jul 2018
Moon mantled in clouds
From it falls tears of Heaven
Lotus kissed with dew

Barefooted, she walks
A lithesome body in white
Rose cheeked, tear-brimmed eyes

Her skirts made of mist
as she twirls and piroettes
and reaches for you

Her sleeves are water
They wave high, above her head
Drops become crystals

As she shines so bright
Crowned with cassia-blossoms
on her silk black hair

But why does she cry?
She hears the music of life
and yearns for the flame

The flick of her wrist
The lake murmurs its sad song
And she's reminded

As the petals rain
In hemp or rich brocade
We are like vapors
Appreciate life.

— The End —