Spring spins around us
bright flashing colors of
sharp rushing runners;
cyclists and skaters
on whirling wheels.

We only amble, watching,
while gentle wind
shakes fresh foliage;
fir leaves, cherry blossoms
fall and far away

some Ayurvedic herbalist
brews Talispatra needle tea,
sprinkles in sakura,
chants a gentle memory,
and whispers to the wind,

of once — when we, too,
were falling leaves.