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Nights of the broken Cherry blossom
To me, for my survival
On this lovely night, I don't need another
broken cherry blossom beneath my father's
orchard trees--Yet, here he comes, my mind goes...
To the candles in the sky, being fogged
by the rain that floods my eyes, nestled
on by a pale crescent moon...
Like tiny souls, illuminating my way
to an unknown heaven that brightens my stay,
accenting the darkness, these angelic protectors...
Like a fine fleck of golden dust
that numbs, that's why in them I trust,
the breaking of my cherry blossom.
Rohnnda Sayri Benavente
Copyright ©2008 
