An ancient scene.
There are good days,
when flower viewing
is my normal routine.
Then there are days
when even the busy
streets are left behind.
And sacred words
rise from the foothills.
Claiming everything
has grown so thin.
Breathing in, breathing out,
it is time to move forward.
The road that goes directly
is the road I will follow.
And in end,
this too shall pass.