Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.
Perfection, my dear being,is what you are.Let not your mindobscure your view.Be still and be aware,right where you are,you cannot miss it.
Porridge Eaters and Gruel Drinkers: A Nepali Poetry Collection
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Perfection, my dear being,is what you are.Let not your mindobscure your view.Be still and be aware,right where you are,you cannot miss it.
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