In comedies the lucky couple wed
And didn't hide but, wakened, frolicked in bed.
Sex and love are Life, repression Death.
Zen masters teach us: Cherish your breath,

Breathe in, breathe out; health isn't wealth.
It's flexibility and love of what we do,
Not say — unless we talk in rhyme
And meter where we play with Time.

Or else we're tragic, trapped in dead metaphors,
True as clichés; trapped in fairytales
Whose plots we know, whose lessons we avoid,
Winding up lonely in the witch's void.