Let's go together
over the moon.
Death to death in
economy of tears.

God blessed―
in songs of violets, the
peonies bloom,
in full glare of white and pink.

Being to unbeing
I will wait for the shooting
stars. A grace, the poise
plummeting into pine trees.

We will return
one day to our sadness,
unraveling the truth of life
and secrets of hidden pains.