I sit under a willow tree

Slightly comfortable on the gravel ground,

With a seat of snow serving as a cushion,

As I face the stagnant water

Of the lake.

 

Sheltered under the umbrage

Provided by the leaves,

I see the few cypress trees

That line-up at the edge

Of the lake.

 

Despite being on top of a mountain,

Silence reigns here

Whilst overhead, a cheeky cloud blocks the sun.

 

‘Twas then that a heather tree

Slowly appears in the center

of the lake,

Like a child getting out of bed

On a Monday morning.

 

There an apparition stands,

Under the umbrage

Of the tree.

 

“Are you a numinous signal sent by some sort of entity to meet me?” I inquire with interest.

“Nay,” the apparition answers, “simply a spirit. Nothing special.”

“What is your name?”

 

With a sly smirk,

The spirit shifts over

In an instant.

 

Before me, she slightly tilted my head upward

Allowing her eyes and mine to meet,

Her appearance being clear.

 

Yet what stuck out the most was

Her two different colored eyes in the colors of Aragonite and Alexandrite jewels,

And hair that glittered gold and silver, seemingly never one single color.

 

“You know my name already,” the spirit says softly.

 

In the distance

A drop of light pink ink falls

Like a single drop of the rain

Taking the shape

Of a Sakura

Flower.