Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

The Lotus Lake

In the hollow of hills,
Deep holy depths beckon.
Approximated to 6.5 meters in legends,
Estimated fathomless in folklores.
Shores bedighted with
Floating reeds,
Water placid at surface.
But beneath its still facade,
Rest many stories.
Ripple.
Vortex.
Silence.
Abyssal.
As ever.


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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.