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.