Ripples of clouds
gather on the horizon
the early morning sun
about to shine
the waves of my dream
 
Gentle breeze
over the pristine river  
a sudden storm
uproots the tree laden with hope
filling the void with shivers of cold
                                      
An art of love
of the bright sculpture
near the shore
as though the waves of passion
climb up only to break and return
 
Morning zephyr
across the tall grass field
whispers something 
I could feel
in my loneliness the urge within
 
The touch  
of springtide I miss
on my thirsty lips
the winter evening continues
to scrub the splintered memories
 
A crescent moon
at midnight edge …
I walk alone
rewinding the time
of my vanished dream
 
Still along
the weathered trail
solemnly I wish   
the new sun hitherto to shine
for the lone tree to bloom again