The Peaceful Valley

The autumn rains

have come.

Salmon are leaping

and splashing

in the swollen river.

The water

has risen

to the top

of its topmost bank,

lipping bushes and roots

thirsty

through the heat

of summer.

Down the

ancient path

carved

in the

mountain,

the waterfall

gushes again,

torrential
fountain.

Gray clouds
hover
and brood
atop the hills, 

and all across

the fields and

rolling meadows,

green has

returned

once more

to the

peaceful valley.