Now, in a hotel room in Shanghai –
I am surrounded by Trane’s music.
And the smell of good coffee.
Enough, to make me
a fluid life dreamer – once again.
But the low waves are still there.
Of death, loss and repeat again –
sepulchral tones of indifference.
But, for now – I thank those souls
who passed my way.
Plum trees in bloom,
everywhere in the garden.
All over my garden.
And falling, I became a rainbow.