At evening I make it down the mountain.
Keeping company with the moon.
Looking back I see the paths I've taken
Blue now, blue beneath the skyline.
You greet me, show the hidden track,
Where children pull back hawthorn curtains,
Reveal green bamboo, the secret path,
Vines that touch the traveller's clothes.
I love finding space to rest,
Clear wine to enjoy with you.
Wind in the pines till voices stop,
Songs till the Ocean of Heaven pales.
I get drunk and you are happy,
Both of us pleased to forget the world.
YOU ARE READING
𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝗺 ⸙༉
Poetry↬ 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘵. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 ☘︎ Ｈａｖｅ ａ ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ ｔｉｍｅ ｒｅａｄｉｎｇ ｔｈｅｍ！
