Tribute to You
For a fleeting moment, I felt the sun.
A brilliant May, so dazzlingly bright,
Drunk on the scent of blades of grass,
I heard your song.
Pale, tender skin of grass beckoning to me,
That song whispered in my ear,
That warm touch gently stroking my soul—
Do you know?
The true meaning of that tribute.
The grass beckoned to me,
Along with the wind:
"If you desire me, you must surrender all that you are."
Now, there is no "me."
There is no "you."
Tributes exist no longer.
Remembering you and me,
The grass, with the wind,
Beckons to another, a nameless someone.
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