Dawn drifts across the lotus pond,
a breath of pale gold and cool mist.
Lotus leaves float like open palms,
their pink blossoms gathering the first shy light.
A lone crane stands among them,
one leg folded, the other brushing the hush of water.
Its reflection wavers, a living brushstroke
on the pond’s glassy calm.
Beyond the reeds, Mount Fuji rises—
a quiet giant robed in morning rose.
Its snow crown catches the sun,
yet offers no sound, only presence.
The crane lowers its head,
and a ring of ripples slides outward,
soft as a forgotten prayer.
Mountain, flower, bird, and sky
merge into a single stillness
that needs no name.
No comments:
Post a Comment