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“When all thoughts Are exhausted I slip into the woods And gather A pile of shepherd's purse. Like the little stream Making its way Through the mossy crevices I, too, quietly Turn clear and transparent.” — Ryokan
When all thoughts
Are exhausted
I slip into the woods
And gather
A pile of shepherd's purse.
Like the little stream
Making its way
Through the mossy crevices
I, too, quietly
Turn clear and transparent.