Stones dark stained
mosses so verdant
now –
dharma rain falling silently.
As one heart
speaks to another,
the blossom remains
on the tree.
Each breath
each moment of bright hope,
even the longing
becomes a song.
As I
drift away
on this
slow boat,
perchance
we may meet
if only
in a dream.
The bowl
now empty
and cool,
still,
taste
lingering on.
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