Sunday, 14 June 2015

A Poem For Today | 15

Men ask the way to the Cold Mountain
Cold Mountain: there's no through trail.
In summer, ice doesn't melt
The rising sun blurs in swirling fog.
How did I make it?
My heart's not the same as yours.
If your heart was like mine
You'd get it and be right here.

- Gary Snyder.

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