I sit along in the dark bamboo grove,
Playing the zither and whistling long.
In this deep wood no one would know -
Only the bright moon comes to shine.

Tomorrow is such a different
world
away
from me
and you
tonight

Timeless my bleeding heart
lost the case to her face
restless torn retained.

I never aroused any feelings in you about me, but when you looked at me, the feelings you already had for me emerged.

Perhaps a burble, a ripple in the brook
A reflection of the sky in a beryl look
From azure to ashen its all the same
Daylight fades to the sound of the rain

Light
is everywhere,

it is everything

mirroring off rock,
demolishing
ambit

cat pawed with downdraft,
blustered by gale
the channels scud havocs
of pyrite,

The sky, huge
an impossibility
of blue, defies
description

words are formed
tried and retired
tossed
on a blather
of gust,
unlistened.


A syrup of larks tongue,
-an ash of a song-,

Is all that is heard
on the day..