The wise man sits still. He listens to the cries of the water fowl in the distance while he sips his herbal tea and eats his rice noodle soup. The wise man sits still. The crickets chirp in chorus together, and the misquitos buzz around his head. The wise man lives in harmony with them. The wise man sits still. The hawk lets out a cry of victory and scoops up a rodent outside his hut. The man watches this cycle of life and death. The wise man sits still. Peace and love
To dream is to sit to watch, to wait to smell, to taste, to see, to hear. I dream of an image of peace and harmony. There are blossoming violet, red, and yellow flowers surrounding by bright yellow monarch butterflies. The wind whistled her sweet song of peace as my white skirt billowed. I could almost taste the honey the busy bees were going to make, while they gathered the sweet nectar, ignoring me standing amongst them. The smell of butterfly bush overwhelmed the air. My dream is a paradise which I will reach one day. Thanks for the inspiration teh-horace! Sorry this is so long, but I'm a little wordy today. Peace and love
Seasons change everyday. No matter how much we want them to remain the same. Summer comes and then it goes, fall approaches and leaves fall off, and winter quickly arrives with snow white, when that is gone, spring develops with blossoms and bees anew. Summer soon is here again. Peace and love
your poem of the wise man expresses an underlying spiritual philosophy ... we are all watching... some are just too busy to notice
