Do you hear me call
softly your name with my heart?
Is the answer near?
His eyes scan the horizon.
Water buffalo lumber across the rice field.
When the monsoon moves
As Sharp as the piranha,
Remember! Our love
Has more power than the storm
An will not be killed by death!
Have you returned?
Here, where children and dogs play
with balls not grenades?
The Clouds are lavender now,
Shadows transform bamboo shoots.
copywrite: Donna (Mims) Yolanda, April 1989