Perched on a crowded veranda,
I ink ‘Fruit bats disturb the flight
of cherry blossoms falling
beneath soothing moonlight’
On an empty veranda,
I contemplate forests stretching to coastal cauldrons.
The annihilation of foaming crests,
on towering cliff faces,
is as precise as a master craftsmen’s chisel.
In this dimension every molecule is mindful;
Michelangelo is reborn as the ocean.