Throughout the journey of mankind
An ancient story one will find
With simple, almost peasant, words
Yet in royal shelves it resides
In a small shack on its last breath,
Lives a craftsman who is near death
Abandoned by his own nation
Alone with his priced creation
A delicate paper lantern
Takes him little time to discern
With no shame his mouth will utter,
“Its beauty will last forever!”
From bamboo stalks its frame arose
That dance with wind in stunning shows
With grace that’s immeasurable,
Yet it’s sturdy, flexible
Every character and picture,
Does nothing to souls but allure
Brushstrokes wail with such potency
Nothing but our history
Tied to its frame is a prayer
That would make life a bit brighter
To be raised to the vast heavens,
While a nation waits for answers
Sadly the craftsman sulks and weeps,
For it’s time to cast the lanterns
Towards the limitless ceiling
To fully reach their life calling
After a few days have gone,
The lantern falls on a green lawn
On the tomb of its creator
To be with him forevermore
Image from: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/22/Yi_peng_sky_lantern_festival_San_Sai_Thailand.jpg
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