Tracing calligraphy in Asian courtyards,
my ears filled with the tune of splashing water,
I sit upon a low wall writing this
in purple ink
inscribed upon the flyleaf like a falling blossom.
And you sit near, encompassing your thoughts of love
in even lines of four or eight,
your cursive, running, hand
compressed in seal style upon your page - -
You write of darkening mountains,
mules and horses,
changing sources,
flowing fountains -
while I turn the pages of this little book
of haiku love
I bought for you,
reading you on every page,
in every poem, where
the ancient poets sitting once
in quiet courtyards
saw into your heart.

Linda Hepner

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/asian-courtyards/