The weeping cherry weeps again in beauty,
Its tears white blossoms lovelier than snow,

Its flowering the flowing of a fountain
That falls more liltingly than fountains flow.

Shall we forgive the universe? She left us
And blooms in Aprils that we cannot know.

The tears are left to us. She weeps no longer.
We glimpse her loveliness. She blossomed so.

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Copyright © 2000 by Julia Budenz.
From Book Four, “Towards Farthest Thule,” of the poem
       in five books, “The Gardens of Flora Baum.”