Fragrant winds of pine-forests

                         When your tired soul takes off the fancy dress,

                         I'll be there waiting for new arrival,

                         unseen borders of calling emptiness

                         dissolve your weary steps into primal

                         truth of restful death, I'll wait for you where

                         grace and hope billows between two mystic

                         water-shores, and shady pine-forests care

                         for sweet minutes of our blessed spirits;

                         I'll be there, searching for your lovely face,

                         where Here and Now is singing tranquil peace,

                         fragrant winds play in pine-trees' needle-lace,

                         where sky is near, I'll wait for you my dear.

                                    Death or life, on same gate's different sides,

                                    where God writes His own directional signs.

To my Twin-flame