For the remainder of the day, everyone sat in silence
not quite believing what they had heard,
and later, as they made their way to the summerhouse,
I waited my turn in the Japanese garden.
The gong was sounding for supper, I remember,
as I made my last call.
The cherry blossom looks so strange in the twilight,
don’t you think – almost ghostly.
today I haven’t a poetic thought in my head
matter of fact no thought at all
just feelings which like coloured liquids
I would collect and put in bottles
labelled sorrow joy indecision fear
is that the purple one over there you ask
no that is called desire
love is a colour I have no name for
it is the base colour of the vibrating universe
it is the rarest colour to collect
and I have only one small droplet
yet in that pearl is an endless ocean
can you have it you ask