~ ~

There's my wither and my deluge
This grief is a tree with big roots.
There is our speck, our small corner
Here's my sorrow and my sonder.

This rotten land, this fragile bloom
This winter, the angry typhoons
Here is where I learn how to love
The hurricanes and the monsoons.

And this joy however fleeting
Please, please remember this feeling.
When wilt returns and I forget
The memories I am keeping.

It is our meager existence
It is our slowly forgetting
In this barren ground waiting
Will be the rebirth of living

It is growing and forgiving
Returning home and believing
In joy and beauty of endings
  Lies my Anamnesis of spring.

fin.