Wings Trembling
by Toshie TAI
Wings trembing are waiting
For the instant of mystery
As played by a wind-bearing wave.
Just in a magic
Repeating rotations
They are now being created.
Can their eyes see now closed tight?
Can their tactual sense feel now too transparent?
Beyond time
At the bottom of the sea words can never reach
Passing through so many seasons
They are waiting for the time of waking
In the cell division with no hasty speed.
As a bird flies up at last
Turning its back to quiet collapsing.
