Bitter eternity never sings to the lusty golden goddess.

Whisper delirious dreams in her crushed water gown.

Watch as she chants to the white summer moon,

She points her sea-skin finger towards the sky.

She can’t recall the sweetness of the cool, misty, autumn wind,

Nor the languidness of her shadow,

In the essential moment of the spring storm.

She worships the delicate beauty of mother earth’s shining breast,

The wintry vision overcoming her with sheer joy.