When one finally arrives at the point where schedules are forgotten, and becomes immersed in ancient rhythms, one begins to live.
~ Sigurd F. Olson, thanks to Heron Dance
You ask why I make my home in the mountain forest,
And I smile, and am silent,
And even my soul remains quiet:
It lives in the other world
Which no one owns.
The peach trees blossom.
The water flows.
And I smile, and am silent,
And even my soul remains quiet:
It lives in the other world
Which no one owns.
The peach trees blossom.
The water flows.