Songs of a Nomad Flute, and Crying Ospreys

A poem

A poem

Photo by Author using Night Cafe

Sound of falling snow, wind over empty hills
high mountains and flowing water,
and an autumn moon over Han Palace
in that place wholly faraway,
as a wandering songstress 
recites plum blossom melodies.

A moonlit night on the Spring River,
glints wild geese 
descending on the sandbank
and silver sheep on the hill slope.
Half the moon climbs up
to overlook
flutes and drums at dusk.

Gardens of jade
beneath canopies of emerald leaves
and sandalwood scents
in harmony with the soft murmur 
of a distant waterfall 
as water echoes the teachings 
of stillness.

The gentle rustle of bamboo leaves
and light from a thousand lanterns
awaken with the onset of dusk
The anointed guardians 
of the sacred balance
between the Yin and Yang.

The nomad’s flute continues its serenade, 
the weeping Osprey finds solace 
in the whispered lament
of the autumn moon
and the lone songstress
lays down her melodies
over Han Palace.