Fireflies have gone into hiding Accosted by shadows of night Dreams that ventured out Having lost their way Now wait under the mushrooms Growing on the wizened trunk
Infant dawn has arrived A crimson smile on cherubic face Treading gingerly, On slippery stones It waits for the breeze At my garden gates
Under a canopy of clouds Pulsating stillness of morning sky Waits at my moistened windowsill For the breeze to sing Ballads of the waves And songs of the boats
The whole night it drizzled And breeze stayed awake Searching words Scripting lyrics, my friend! Yet, the last stanza of her poem Remains unfinished
Dawn at my garden gates Sky at my windowsill Dreams under the mushrooms All shall have to wait For the ballads of the waves And songs of the boats As the breeze had stayed awake While it drizzled the whole night
