As if everyone had left,
the neighboring campers,
a couple,
vanished.

Without a word of farewell,
rain drops fell
onto the crowded tents,
making an unexpectedly loud sound.

Surely they, too,
must have departed
from the sky
without a word of greeting.

Our conversations were always like that.

When someone leaves,
it is only then
that we notice
the friend who has arrived—
a habit unique to humans.

The cloudy sky,
occasionally breaking,
does not mind
as I quietly shift my place.

And so
the vast heart of God
welcomes arrivals and departures alike—
an endlessly silent
morning rain.

—Yoon Tae-Hun, August 18, 1998