"Like a lion, without fear of the howling pack; Like a gust of wind, ne'er trapped in a snare;Like a lotus blossom, ne'er sprinkled by water; Like me, like a unicorn, in solitude roam"--Hymn of Budda
Simple Magic simple magic, this moment, i can hear the marsh weep for its lost Egrets; that haunting quietude, a cascade of guilt for not preserving it There. across the still surface of the water, shadows pick up distorted lives across its mirrored image only the wind dips an occasional finger to trace self-portraits, then Erase. simple magic, this moment, the world begins when butterfiles swoon and a Unicorn is Born. the footfalls of Man still echo here . . . the grass blades bend to wave instead of call. I turn around to see the Unicorn no more and leave behind remourseful tears the Broken Earth parts to drink an intruder still in this once Unicorn-World, even from my distance of breathless admiration. /s.stumpf ©