Lotus wild over sakura

On every sapling risen
Words to be written
Stories of the noon,
Spoken on earthly womb,
To clandestine rhythms
Chant the lone pilgrims.
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Upon scarlet citadels,
Rest a pristine dove,
Pilgrim prayers echo
Testimony of love.

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Friday nights,
A song in the wild,
Upon twinkling lights
Monotony smiled.
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The flute on your lips,
The music in my ears,
The breeze at the pier,
A heavenly souvenir.
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Fishes’ tears fill the ocean,
Cicada’s cry fill the mountains,
With greatest devotion
I'll fill cloudless ream.
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Like ripples in water,
Journey is to a traveler
Muse is to an artist,
A cerebral reformer.
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A poem is an endless knot,
Meshing love and wisdom
The godly cosmic aphorism,
As Buddha in a lotus pod.

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