Through my window
an Asian moon ripples
its westward reflection and inspirations
over the darkened river below.
Its setting light
has awakened me to your absence.
Yet, your side of bed
is still warm,
your pillow still alive
with lotus blossom
and you.
***
We first met some time ago.
It was sticky hot,
even after the afternoon down pour;
you called it a
“Jade Tree Summer”.
A time of year
filled with sweet scents
and mystery.
You said, “people fall in love
during the musky heat
of “jade tree summer”.
I know this to be true.
***
As the evening began to cool
into a breezy, saffron night,
you said,
“Come dance with me, with
slow harmonious
hands and feet
to songs of Jintara and Siryporn,
to Luuk Pung and Thai love songs.
Tease me with dialogue
found in lyrical Molam.”
As subtle innuendo wrapped you
in a low waist skirt.
I replied with anticipation’s smile
and hopes you would
teach me with Thai mystery
the fusion of red and yellow,
of traditional and new,
the intricacies of “Ma Tham Mai”
as Bird and Jintara
dance and flirt.
***
It was during a slow moving,
deeply mellow,
with muted shades of green and yellow,
a Parn song,
sung with Asian tenor
that I asked
if I could see you again.
Asked you to show me
a Jade Tree Summer;
sultry, jasmine scented forests
and Asian moon reflected nights.
***
Through my window
the moving river brings
far away sounds of Varunee
and mixes with songs of morn.
Lazily, I stretch into existence
a jade tree summer dawn,
anticipating your return.