Utterly delightful
In the interplay
Of mountains and clouds
In the late afternoon sun
No. No, no.
Divine
I mean divine.
No. No, no.
Divine
I mean divine.
On a calm, breezeless evening
Not even a shimmer on the reflecting pond
My mind drifts
With the passing of time
Thus are we rendered
Ephemera
Greetings traveler:
In ancient times, there was a prayer for “The Stranger Within our Gates.” Because this motel is a human institution to serve people, and not solely a money-making organization, we hope that God will grant you peace and rest while you are under our roof.
Sometimes you’re travelling along, lost in your own thoughts alongside your travel mate, also lost in their own thoughts. You’ve gone for a while without realising your thirst, and you go a while further before some remote possibility of quenching that thirst comes along on the road. Then, just before you can verbalize the emotions and needs, your travel mate, whom you believed was on some other mental voyage, anticipates your thoughts and says something like, “I could go for something cold and wet.”
She believed.
He lied.
Normally, that would have ended it.
What is there in a laugh that time avoids to know?
Look at all the people out there playing
Running from the past
“Can I make my bus,” he cries, “or will I see the show?”
We surround ourselves with time
Building with the laughter a doorway to the mind