I sit upon the porch of the garden
My box, my cage
my small delight
A breeze pats my cheek
as I raise my gaze
to the red leaves
of the momiji tree
It stands in the center
with a half ring of camellias
blossoming beside it
Its long branches
sway in the wind
as fingers do
when weaving silk threads
In the frame of my mind
I glimpse a fragment
of an image
A small dusty room
with a lingering scent
of lacquer
but with a loom
seated within
The steady sound of weaving
knocking, echoing
YOU ARE READING
Ambiance (Cellphone Novel)
FantasyA girl is enclosed in a temple where she is a prophetess. She only wakes to see the late afternoon sun. When she begins to dream of a second heart within, which beats to the rhythm of someone near her. My entry as part of the Team Dreams in @rskov...
