Sacred Thorn
It seems like I died,
I died on my way back.
My body collapsed,
And got buried deep under bed.
The stars and moon gathered for my last rites.
The Moon held my stains in craters confined.
The stars stole my faded glow and shined.
The clouds soaked my tears
And sobbed in rain,
The sky wore my clothes
And painted a rainbow at night.
The soil ate my bones
And raised a pond with swans,
The birds swallowed my cords
And chirped twice.
The graveyard bloomed
Into a sacred thorn.
Yes, it seems like I died,
But now everything’s bright.
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