I walk around the river,
several times.
Here in the shadows
no miracles occur.
And the sun, the sun –
my visible wife.
Nothing more….
Neither woman,
nor dragon nor Buddha.
Just a picture, a memory.
A luminous beautiful woman.
The queen of the summer.
A bloom bouncing in the joyful.
Wind sound passes around me.
The moon and stars
meet midway, to slice my void
And I wonder…..
Does the sun ever rise again?