This is my bench
under the wisteria trellis
on the other side of the world,
where, looking outward to the east,
I behold impermanence
and, looking inward to the west,
imperfection.
This is my bench
under the wisteria trellis
on the other side of the world,
where, looking outward to the east,
I behold impermanence
and, looking inward to the west,
imperfection.
Reblogged this on Lilaia Moreli – Words Are Sacred.
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