Love

How many times one looks for it? How many times one finds it? I asked an old stone. A long wide crack ran across its face, Like a bad smile. His face! His Face! Look at his grinning face! Are you mad? A fern whispered, swaying from left to right. It swayed back, right to left, And murmured. A rock has no face. It only wears a mask! I saw her on a riverbed, Entering a rocky mouth. That was not too long ago, Too recent to become history. I picked up a fallen cherry blossom, And looked for her in dead whiteness. I heard a fly buzzing, Swinging on a shrine's bell. She is gone! She is gone! It also wore a mask.