Explosions interspersed between raindrops
splattering dark canvas
in a palette of precious metals,
like God Herself walked by

Below, a chorus of vowels
Chasing each other in a call and response

Oou's melt into Aah's, slips into Eee's
Circles so smoothly orchestrated
An end can't separate itself from a beginning

Are we celebrating, or in mourning?
Beneath the upturned gazes
reflecting artificial stars
and smiles, painted on

only the heart
beating honestly on
will know

Photo: Naoya Murata

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