the taste of life

I do not hesitate to open the gate
greeting the rusty lock, red paint chips
this garden has been kept well

thick moss hides the luster of youth
vines of roses and wisteria climb
iron-laced pergolas and trickling fountains

here I remember the taste of falling rain
the sweetness of salt brine, or the vapor
of green tea brewing in your old red kettle

this sorry feeling for myself evaporates
from the well where my wishes vibrate

I’ve time enough to wander through fallen petals
their perfume pacifies my heart as it capers
along soft paths sowed in suffering grains

clutching the leather billfold, mountains
of memories, old yellow photos of time
speaking to my personal religion of truth

pausing beneath the oak tree, my heart swells
parting was never spoken from our lips
until eternity, for those words, I will wait


the taste of life
[2009.28.7…a]
Written for the "Invalid Item"  Contest