The Connection

Lentils and morning glories

Emit a faint smell of rain

Like a prophecy

On life in the days to come

A black-billed bird settles

In the barn’s hushed breath, and nearby

In the release pond of a shabby temple

A big fish breeds a small fish

I remember I ran to a courtyard

On whose cobble steps lay

A discarded, wilted rose

On the table in the room

A glass vase holds water and is only

Half full