On tiny feet, the lady walks, a doll of ancient grace,
A soul that moves on silk and stone, behind a powdered face.
She bows, she nods, she pours the tea, she does so, properly
She passes through this paper world, and does not leave a trace.
In the sky, the kites do fly, dragons in the air,
They dance upon the playful winds, climbing unseen stairs.
Higher and higher, reaching higher, the dragons roar and strain,
To dare to stretch beyond their strings, to fly off to anywhere.
In the dark, the neon gods, awake to rule the night,
They blink and buzz, on and off, in eerie, nervous light.
And down below in dappled colors,
The neon people push and shove, in a crowded human fright.
Oh so old and oh so new, this isle is torn now in two,
Between the world of ancient thought and the just created new.
So there among the cherry trees and the noble samurai,
The cameras flash, the cell phones ring, what is a soul to do.