In a time of nothing,
Halfway between then and then,
A gong sounds dimly,
Beckoning out into the frosty yonder
Tattered marigold petals
Bracketed by a fading summer palm.
Awakening to the sombient spring,
Aspirations veiled in a shadow of white
Remain without regret.
Cloaked in the mirage,
Revelling in the stillness of the cool,
The unobstructed loneliness is
Metamorphosed into an honorary peace.
Sought out by many,
Venerated by few.
The marigold ushered between the palms
Exits graciously without a word,
Leaving the breath-
It unfolds and blossoms into a pinnacle of silence.
The plights of yesteryear are harvested for store,
Discrediting the death that is to come
In favor of the happiness that,
Swells to an undulating fable.
I am happy,
Of the happenstance of joy,