Discover A New Perspective
A mountain grows tall
Trees of green grow like hair;
In eternal spring
Belief; dreams in passing,
Wind comes down from the mountain
I am at peace
Dreams flow in water
Clear waters run shallow
The river flows bright
In the belief hides in death,
Its joke chuckles with a smile
In death hides life
Tasting blueberries
Under the trees of pine I sleep
The wind breathes in; out
When the muses leave, what is left but silence? The abysmal comfort, the unending sleep- when the muse leaves where I go to find it? With what rapture, what song- may I sing now in the day that lasts
The wanderer, the seeker All are all the weaker For they fail to see the world’s telling brand The simple sound of one hand….
I wonder, I wonder If in the depths of our slumber, We ever dream to cease our ceaseless number. Perhaps our questions are naught but answers, Perhaps answers are naught but questions, Our pride is pr
