Walking through a brilliant garden,
Petals of red sprouting for the first time.
Seeing the clear
drop of dew drip
from the green of the grass.
There is a moment of silence, quickly
overcome by whispers of
creatures in the trees,
As they
share the secrets
of the living.
And all the while,
The moon glows down upon me.
The moon is my lover.
She kisses,
With silken lips aglow,
And as white as snow,
Soft as a lotus' skin.
Drinking in
her milky light.
She is
a pale beauty,
Untouchable as the soft ripples of a lake,
As the dawn break,
as the grass blades,
Of a garden green.
The treasure is here,
And nowhere else.
