Hope

This place suffocates me.

Yet when I look at you,

I imagine the landscape

of the future on the grassy field

at the foot of the hills

with yellow dandelions

scattered like bubbles

on green skirt and the cherry

blossoms slowly sway,

pink belt-like ribbon — the horizon

that separates the cerulean dome;

we hide in the underbrush

making our discovery,

oblivious of the scenery,

as we leisurely plant

our own seeds of hope.