Such precious gemstones,
now soul-torn trees forlorn.
The sea, unkempt –
but still wide-eyes open.
With spirited fish,
not to be copied.
And I, no longer
sleepwalking to the moon.
The fusion of the past
and the passion,
was intoxicating,
but always ending.

I met some elephants
in Xinxiang today,
alive as you and me.
Trunks swished into a shell,
they talked of dancing divas,
and men who would be king.
For a moment, my sanity
ran away with the flimsy sun.
I said nothing, and escaped
to my imagination.

So many days have
come and gone.
Some splashing
in putrid waters,
and buried by chains
and thunderstorms.
But most, a landscape
of open eyes – time mirrored
in shining blue ice.
And what of now?
I have dreamed you awake,
a twisting cloud seducing me.
Dark yet fluttering,
in the bluest of dresses –
sky draped all over me.
And as the plains
of sadness disappear,
white birds sing above.
Of fair rocks now
sequined with gold,
and ache and pleasure
now as one.
 

I awake in a garden,
so thick the frost today.
The sky cries wild,
dripped and ocean bound.
A desire for you,
my eyes tremble to see.
I will not forget, to whom
I owe this happiness.