You’d see the charm, how manicured and small That pond—now by a highway—stands preserved. How ordinary is the light, how short That bridge from which the master once observed. To go is nice, but not the point I think. It’s here, in all its polychrome of time. The water mixed with sky, forever still, In varied shades of strangely flat sublime. In this triumphant harmony you can Perceive subjective multitudes, that line The walls of caves in valleys, undisturbed. To show us what perspective can refine. We do distrust it though, this chocolate tin Perfection of a world that doesn’t graze. Its gift of peace the gesture of a man Who could do naught but praise and praise and praise.
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I absolutely love it. Like more then a comment can say.