blooms open
as if all to birth a piece
of Saohime…
blooms open
as if all to birth a piece
of Saohime…
young grasses grow
in an old cemetery
through cracking stones…
living as fast as
waterweeds grow,
without flow…
so warm
that winter now seems
an illusion
my heartbeat syncs
with the pulse of a spring dawn
and life renews…