Tokyo Irises

I sit, bathed in the chatter of a language
That I know I will never understand
And watch the flower heads nod in response
To the soft stirrings of the summer air
And the silent breeze stirred in the garden of my memory
Brings the scent of other flowers, from another garden
From a time long past and long gone
And I bow my head as the breeze slowly fades
And a gentle sadness fills my aching heart