Jasmine flowered through the night…
Even as daylight pressed at the gates,
jasmine buds opened their eyes to the dawn-moon.
Even as daylight pours through every crevice,
jasmine flowers stay awake,
hopeful of the first light of twilight-moon,
weak it may be, like first prayer, new faith.
Night falls… I switch off the lights, and pull down
the blinds – one by one.
I put the day away with its slow ripening
memories, scraps of wasted thoughts,
idle images of an indeterminate day.
A few more minutes and I’ll be done putting away
these odds and ends,
that might keep me awake for a bit,
then like youth, rationed, drop away.
Some night, I will pack up – but that
will be easier. There’s not much I want to take –
Memories I want so much to spirit away
are fading with time and distance…
Perhaps in the end they will turn to a speck of dust that
will stowaway in my eyes and I will
up and away –
light like a feather, following his way.
…jasmine flowers will dry up and fall away
smelling like yesterday…