A trip to Tainan on Tawian this afternoon. And a poem I wrote 🙏

Awakened by sounds,
of dogs barking,
a rooster crows.
All to open the day.

A single yuhina flies by.
As the temple bell rings,
and speaks of this
sweet parting.

In the distance,
I see waves
caressing the shore.
Each swell a loving soul.

‘Spring’, I thought.
And a heart sighs.
To continue on,
these firefly days.

A new journey about to begin. A poem I wrote last night 🙏

This Autumn night,
stuck and loved.
Such things as
these precious kisses.
 
A new moon,
all life……
Some of you
and some of me.
 
A leaf falls,
the first splash
of a ripe and fruitful season.
Sweet and definitive.

My eyes open
to the final moment.
An ending, but the
sky and the sea
now more desirable.
I move my lips
and make a sound.
An echo of summer,
along a feathered edge.
Tomorrows hopes
from the seashore.

Why so sad, magpie?
This backyard love,
naked as a summer shower.
A stepchild bird,
stretching out.
Newly hatched, I see.
Hush, sweetheart
and let us walk the path.

Outside, a salt sea mist
On waves of heat,
a loving space for all.
From time to time,
petals hang on the breeze.
Life, love, everything.
Must I too,
vanish into the sea

Nobody felt my pain.
No one had the answers.
Streets filled
with blithe laughter.
To some…..
what’s to tell?

A break in the silence,
with springs fading flowers.
The morning Kenting breeze,
and you saw me
through another day….
and another.

A calm afternoon
never, never to grow old.
Two hands softly touching,
and a dragonfly weaving –
move the white blossom petals.
A sudden wind embraces
the tung trees,
and the magic begins.
A burst of blooming life,
speech and breath as one.
And a love to be held onto.

I lived in exile,
ranging from black to white.
A poet’s words kicked around.
I hoped you’d all miss
me after a while.
But there was no milkman
of human kindness.
There was no soul
breathing in the stillness.
From this pain, I could not flee.
And then, a love and
a refuge appeared.
Put together end to end,
like the lily and the water.
Blue shadows for a striving heart.
And the nearest thing
to being alive.

Now the season
to wave goodbye.
Another winter migration,
and our love takes
its leave.

But I still hear,
those morning cicadas.
And all your love returns to me.
As plum blossom scatters
on the spring wind.

A sunlit wave
and a desire to bloom.
And there we were,
a thousand kisses-
one more left.
You spoke me into life.
A single word,
to be held on to.
There is no end, just
summer’s yellowed field.
And new waves,
whispering love talk.