Under the Cherry Tree
The cherry tree can be a meeting place for all those from the moon who have not yet come to know the fountains of Earth. The Earth, by the cherry tree, at seven.
Beneath it, you may listen to the oriole’s prayers if you happened to miss Mass.
Under the cherry tree, you may kiss for the first time. And for the last. And the kiss will remain fragrant.
If you have a grandmother, you will always have cherries.
Under the cherry tree, you may laugh at an old forgotten joke, and no one will think twice.
Beneath its branches, you may ask for forgiveness. Even a bear will forgive you.
Standing under it, you may watch the naked moon without it knowing.
Under the cherry tree, you may write a song or a monologue and dedicate it to yourself. You may even doze off, if you’re not afraid to wake with a petal in your mouth.
Having gathered petals, you may send them by post to a friend – or to a stranger.
Under the cherry tree, you will never fully get wet. Your tears will remain dry.
Cherry blossom smells of childhood – so it’s no wonder if, breathing it in, you turn childlike.
Beneath it, without a doubt, no owl will spot you or take you away.