Orchidbreathing Incense Into Butterfly's Wings

From The Pine Tree, Learn Of The Pine Tree; And From The Bamboo, Of The Bamboo

A Weathered Skeleton In Windy Fields Of Memory, Piercing Like A Knife.

Nothing In The Cry Of Cicadas Suggests They Are About To Die

Twilight Whippoorwill... Whistle On, Sweet Deepener Of Dark Loneliness

The Journey Itself Is My Home.