10-04-2017, 06:08 AM
And a sonnet - from Bogor
The woodsman and the hedgehog watch the moon
illuminate the shadows, light on dark,
as Rimutakas' fading daytime tune
half-heard and half-remembered, leaves a mark
like ripples on a creek. The silence grows.
The woodsman sighs. He lights a smoke, and shares
it with his mate, the hedgehog, toke by toke.
The pine trees sway, and seem to dance in pairs.
'I wonder if that match came from this tree?'
The hedgehog, who by now can speak, replies
'I like to think of circles made complete.'
They ponder on the mysteries of life
while high above, bright stars blaze out their song
'til every living creature sings along.
The woodsman and the hedgehog watch the moon
illuminate the shadows, light on dark,
as Rimutakas' fading daytime tune
half-heard and half-remembered, leaves a mark
like ripples on a creek. The silence grows.
The woodsman sighs. He lights a smoke, and shares
it with his mate, the hedgehog, toke by toke.
The pine trees sway, and seem to dance in pairs.
'I wonder if that match came from this tree?'
The hedgehog, who by now can speak, replies
'I like to think of circles made complete.'
They ponder on the mysteries of life
while high above, bright stars blaze out their song
'til every living creature sings along.