Han Sol Doh

As a venerable season falls

another quickly takes its place.

Peaceful puffs of wind

blow across deserted schools,

as the children have gone out to play

in the sun-soaking summer day.

Old pines welcome new oaks;

new oaks shelter the lovebirds;

the lovebirds croon musical

vibrations which leap across

hell into the open ears of nature.

People flock in huge swarms

to the margins where sweet rock

meets salty water in harmony.

Nothing but the waves send

our troubles out to sea.

Grass paints the ground green;

summer rains add specks of gray.

But when dark dust clouds are

shooed away, a palette of colors

gives breath to the setting light.

And all this I blissfully dreamed

on an iced winter night,

thawed out by the mere idea

of an incoming paradise.