A September breeze twirls gossamer in and
around mulberry groves. Lone sail
fluxes between realms. I look for a
magic raft but gossamer lingers.
September billows craft gossamer spirals,
wrapping cassia in silken sheets.
Solitary raft in flux between realms.
I view no magic raft, the gate closes.
Septembers wind twists gossamer through
willow fingers. Single boat traverses paths
between dust and clarity. Gossamer grows dense,
and denser. Lantern flickers, empty raft trails.
Lone raft picks a route through gossamer,
in shift by September breeze. Two blue
herons catch my view, rafter vanishes.
Maybe he found a magic raft.
By moonlight, horse hooves patter, I
see you aboard your raft. Lantern
flickers on as you push off into gossamer
realms of September seeking magic rafts.
The mountains are the mist as the
mist is the water. One raft fades
from view, an empty one drifts by.
I watch alone – but can wait a little longer.
First image from here: http://www.chineseartpaintings.com/images/products2/NP-CJ040Sb%5B1%5D.jpg
Second image from here: http://yipsf.leafbear.com/page/2/
https://skyraft.wordpress.com/2012/03/17/views-from-the-burned-tower/ – Fifth poem from that series, and I felt like exploring it a bit further.