WHYGARDEN sixty-two
The Grace of April
Daylight Reverie
And the Lark's Song
Now Crossing the River of Time
To Reach the Soul Washed Clean by Spring Breeze
Worldly Troubles Have Nothing to Do with Me
Words Reside Here
Those who are not good with words
Always love to, in the late spring sunlight,
Lay open a book
The sentences inside are like butterflies
Flying out of the jungle, over the valley
Into the daydreams of spring
Flowers and trees like brocade
Spring light intoxicating
RECOMMEND · SPACES
WHYGARDEN
Time Well Wasted in Spring Light
If we never make time for the seemingly useless, how are we to spend our finite lives?
WHYGARDEN
Spring Stirs Above the Clouds
If noise is not your way of life, enjoy the quiet of answering only to yourself.
