Carefully, the artist
released their wings
from the eternal clasp
of the jade.
Its dust
covered his fingers
with lichens.
Its translucent birds
woke up the light!
My fingers tremble
touching their surfaces,
as if they would
fly away
if I were
not tender.
If I did not honor
the soul
that opened up
their cages.
The lips that
lovingly kissed them
when he finished.
His jade children
robust and beautiful
as he became dust.
How wonderful
that person was!
How gracious
the stone,
to give up its treasure.
How gracefully
they fly on my mantle.
How delicate
the green aura
of their bodies,
the music
inside their silence.