Towards the sky andthe river I walk.

Today I can look at the
sky and it is not new.
Today I can look at the river
and it is looking at my face.
With nothing carried in my karma.

I walk away from the
winter that held no spring.
Towards the news of my soul.
A butterfly’s torn wing, born again.
And the world owes me nothing.
ā€‹

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