behind the words
written at all hazard
despite riots, curfews and typhoons
is a language unheard-of,
the language of fish
painted on the arched ceiling
of an ancient shrine,
revived by a touch
of salt water,
spoken as well by trees and animals
in a blind younger world
before literate humans arrived,
when a leaf was heavier than gold
and silver dust still falling
from the moon -
a story starts
at the center behind a seer's eyes -
child monks parrot the words
diligently
with tears in their eyes -
from the bottom
of a salt lake,
dry and long forgotten,
rises a faraway laughter
like a ripple of mirage over water -
—Yoko Danno