How Long Must I Wait?

For what? I don't know. Unable to figure it out on my own, I run straight to the temple looking for answers.

The questions of my suffering, like so many yellow leaves hitting the newly frozen ground.

They, too, must wait until the rain turns to snow, until the moon returns,

a blue blossom in the middle of the forest where no one, not even the ever watchful crow, is at home.