I call your name in the wind
and white roses bring your voice.
How fragrant are your letters
perfumed with burning petals.

For there’s a floating sadness
in the silence of seashores.
When a sudden lightning hits
a lone coral in the sand.

Perhaps it’s the wind’s rhythm
that keeps our souls in contact.
For time is a memory
of flowing forgetfulness.

But your love is on an ebb
in the green of Marahan.
And so we keep this distance
and the incalculable.