Mana, July 2016

the hill with no trees 
the town with square windows
the conifers peppered with snow
and those little streams which ran
through the blooming potato farms
all have been touched
by the traveling glance of my eyes
I have absorbed the country breath by breath
every ray fermenting a new image
each peak narrating a different view
each incense stick a growing artwork of smoke
every temple bell a portal for an echo

every step
a beat
in the song of the forest

14.1.17

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