Qingyun Pavilion

　　  Admiring the Moon in Hushed Tones

　　  Sipping Tea, Fearing to Disturb the Moon Goddess

　　  Qingyun soars but three feet from the sky, A lone pavilion frames eight hundred peaks nearby. The moon’s soft beams drift down through mist so pale, Her long sleeves brush the clouds as she drinks her fill. We sip the dew, the moon shines round and bright, Listening in stillness to the stream’s soft light.