The wet mountain road.
This is where we spent all our time
wondering if we would get across.

Someone planted a prayer flag in my heart.
Green living, white clouds, and juniper incense
mingled with the blue
left by a sea that once owned this land.

Perhaps the storm will blow it down
someday, after it has halted the wind
a thousand times.

We found each other yesterday,
after they told us the past is over.
Now we are floating smudges of colour
flying high over the mountain barrier.