Not to think of yourself / as someone who did not count -- / Festival of the Souls.
The moon and sun are travelers through eternity. Even the years wander on. Whether drifting through life on a boat or climbing toward old age leading a horse, each day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
Come out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.
With every gust of wind, the butterfly changes its place on the willow.
The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.