With rubbered cherry heads,
the roosters sound morning’s arrival,
chasing each other under
verdant shrubbery on stilts.

The mind summersaults and
stretches itself like putty.
In and out I breath,
reliquinshing it to form
a kaleidoscope of color and silence.

A sudden burst of rain bats down on the roofs
and the children run and dance and ride bicycles,
screaming in the sound of innocence,
throwing off their orange garments to
receive the sky’s kisses.

I sit still as the patient observer.
I am told this is where suffering ends
and I know it.