Sever temporal and blind attachments.
Inhale the thick air of the wisdom deep.
Pines are my backbones, my secret parchments.
The earth is breathing under feet in sleep.
Water carries fleeting things and drowns them.
The calmness of the moment chants of bliss.
Ties aren't bonding me to earth who crowns them.
When I'm not of this world no thing I'll miss.
May cold
© Copyright: Кристина Эмо, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119061207775
Свидетельство о публикации №119061207775
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