The mother writes to her exiled son:
the morning reminds me of you, waking up to study for exams
I hope you are well, folded between the wind and the longing
towards home
the lover breaks into her lover
I hope you know how hard a waterfall
catches earth, each crash of a droplet
breaks even when it is beautiful
the silent sun breaks into the world
what thoughts do these sleepers lay
before I wake them up by the start of the day
opening the doors to a good morning
here and there the trees begin to regain blood,
reign color, lush beauty. I sit still pleading
The almond has bloomed
but where are you?
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