"I sit quietly, listening to the falling leaves -
A lonely hut, a life of renunciation.
The past has faded, things are no longer remembered,
My sleeve is wet with tears."
Wet with tears of remembering yesterday
hold tight to strings
forcing along the Graces,
stumbling, stuttering, staggering
along the elusive way.
I'd love to know a secret path
back to civilization,
it seems
grown over,
stubborn to move. . .
Revealing wisdom
best suited
to be
used by the doctor
writing out
the perscription
The photo is of writer George Meredith. This is where he housed his mule, picnic, 130 years ago. I do not have photo credit artist name.
OPTION # 5:
As your last option I want you to combine
more than one prompt; whether it be a photo,
a quote, ect.. and pen me something tres
magnifique!
******
Quote used:G) "I sit quietly, listening to the falling leaves -
A lonely hut, a life of renunciation.
The past has faded, things are no longer remembered,
My sleeve is wet with tears."
~Ryokan, 1758-1831
One Robe, One Bowl, Translated by John Stevens