A long time ago, a man named Michio,
Lived among the Momiji and Matsu.
Just living his life, with his son and his wife,
Always keeping in his pocket his nunchaku.
Michio possessed the strength of three men,
And everything he always sees.
But as the saying goes, even for Michio,
'Even monkeys fall from trees'.
Now Michio knew that his nunchaku,
Would keep him safe and sound.
Until one night he had quite a fright,
And jumped three feet off the ground.
This bold man shrunk from six foot to three,
And his stomach churned with fear.
His rough hands start sweating; he didn’t know what to do,
But he hoped his nunchaku was near.
Michio made a mistake and nothing could help,
There was nothing that he could see.
This brave great man became a monkey today,
And even he, fell from a tree.

In the sands of time,
the red beat,
almost at the end,
of this end.

For not wanting to see .....
What else will be lost?
By those hands ....
What else have you not touched?

There is a horizon,
There,
all around,
the summits of life.

Of the event,
of those hands,
the power to see from behind,
and contemplate the infinite.

I would like a more flowery dress,
and some less sinister clouds .....

This morning, I come to my table once more,
A cup of coffee gently steams,
Warming hands that feel weighted down
Again and again, I type my goodbye,
But I always delete it, hoping there’s still something else I can do.

You, who have filled my days until now,
Like mornings begun with easy conversations,
And afternoons spent lost in tasks, one after another—
Today, it feels different, as the countdown begins.

The longer I sit, the more I realize this chair no longer fits me
I trace the quiet walls, so familiar with laughter, complaints, and tireless effort
Each corner here has its own story.

Though my heart is still full, I know I must leave
Tomorrow, someone else will sit here, bringing even bigger dreams
For now, I leave my memories in this last sip of coffee,
Heading to the door that’s always greeted me each morning,
Now releasing me gently, like a Momiji branch lets go of its leaves around the building in autumn.