Lest a prayer is answered
I just quietly observed
Your lighted peaks
Immersed myself
In the sea of golden rays
the story of
Of each cloud
Was not same
So I heard
I am not sure which one
Will soak me
Absorb me
And scatter on the tilled land
Sprouted seed
Will then scatter
Aroma of an absorbed dream
With no one to see,
Hear or in wait May be