Mion

Your soul
comes from beauty
to surpass her
and then
beauty
becomes your soul
and you surpass her.

Back and forth
cloud and sky
pouring their kiss
into the bliss of dewdrop mirrors
into the bliss of tiny flowers
bending, wrapping, holding.

Back and forth
beauty and sky
the kisses of the light upon the sea
bending, waving, folding
themselves into the wings
on which you lift your star.

Your soul
comes from beauty
and leaps beyond her, saying
come, pass me, let us play
again in the waves
again in the sky
pouring these kisses
back and forth
among the stars.