Enigma

		I walked quietly past the apricot trees
			and sat on the barley grass.

		I would only stay a minute
			to witness the ruby sunset
				and feel the wind caress
					my neck and shoulders.

		The sky was on fire
			it seemed as though the Sun
				has died a violent death.

		I couldn't understand
			why the trees stood so silently
				to watch the death without reply
					or even a sigh.

		Then it struck me:

			the Sun was giving to the trees
				its own life.

		I knew at once
			there was a harmony
				so perfect
					so unthought
						the enigma of life and death
							is a standard progression of cycles
							in the wind of time.