Spring Peach Blossom

We are anything but broken reeds, my dear. age is a road narrowing out of sight that's entering another stratosphere but on the horizon shines just as bright and love is a glowing spring peach blossom whatsoever the season, its fragrance I drink and cherish it like a poured libation. to these gods, I give great thanks, loquacious but singing like reeds disturbs even me It is to you, your beauty, I now bow. I'm rooted evermore as a detainee. Standing tall and resolute with fervour and if I sing, it's to you, you alone. You, love, are my foundation, my roots, my home.