What defines the human spirit
when we are pushed to our limits?
What ghosts are we chasing through
day and night?
Are ghosts chasing us through
valleys and up mountains?
I see the moon in a dewdrop,
does the moon see me?
I look across the river
as the black wolf approaches.
I look uphill
as the shadows swallow the trees
I drink the sunset’s last light
and as the sky dissappears
and the cold air settles,
I am content in my place here
and I let go of remaining thoughts
making room for ten thousand lanterns.