June 25^th, 2019

A bird in a secluded grove
sings like a flute.
Willows sway gracefully
with their golden threads.
The mountain valley grows
quieter as the clouds return.
A breeze brings along the
fragrance of the apricot flowers.
Sitting here a whole day in peace,
Till my mind is cleared of all cares,
I would tell you more,
but words fail.
If you come to this grove,
you will see yourself.