Unbidden, and unbidden only.
And being bidden, will not be found.
But left to wander
Come over the hills from the Land of Dreams.
Mysterious wisps of fantasy
Which, like shy children,
Reveal themselves in small portions
They allow whole beauty
To be found.
Written by my Mommy
Man this poem is so wu wei, I almost don’t wanna include any words. I don’t really know what to say anyway. The words come when you let them not when you make them. The poem says it all. What can I add that’s not just gonna dilute the meaning?
Whoo. Glad I got that out of the way.
Thanks as always Mommy. Cya next week!