A Poem of Reconcilliation

In the trees a melody for The Japanese plays. Maybe a royal Herohito BUTTERFLY who has past, sees the wind as an answer to a long felt curse. There is no need to rehearse. Beauty is in The Registry. It is clean for the first time and a medical doctor can listen to my lungs ring clear. Past mistakes of generations can lead to success. Maybe the us and them need each other. Lions in the desert appear to have given up their savannahs. Loving kindness and apology may have been seen as dirty disease in the past, but HONOR is on the line today. After the day the economy will stabilize through a sushi chef who became a corporate giant in one, two, three. Yakuza chains and genes bow to me and hand me their favored sword to complete the surgery. I offer a brother who is not a thief. Liquid assets will become necessary and banks will begin to pray to The West again, but now Russia can hear the drums as well. It is time for Haiku. Poetry will soothe the savagery and my gorillas will bow the sun today.