Winter Tree

Truth does not lie in our language.

It lies elsewhere, wherever it is in mortal.


Take premature mortality, which leaves awesome wordage.

The dignity, the awe, gently forces them to abandon all the rest,

Appall and dismay, but a crystallization of mortals.



The Buddhist verbalization, "Namaste" or "NUM" is a merciful vintage,

Easy to utter, deeply resonate from the Everest to the East,

Consuming everything all through the fauna and flora of the eternal.

So, 

Don't twist the elderly's apparent withered voices by a hasty judge,

Because they turned so with some bumps and detours at least,

Just Like a howling winter tree, you read there a holy sign of revival.



What is uttered never speaks.
A problem of Wabi and Sabi in a language;

What is experienced and abandoned as time goes on,

That is the utmost significant matter for us all.

ao


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