Hidden Gardens in the snow

perfectionI keep seeing this empty and large room, with a gentle rice paravent about to disclose in front of my eyes.

 

 

It starts opening slowly, the only sound perceivable is the snow falling.

A Japanese garden is hidden underneath a long winter.

Bared Feet, white dress, i have in my hands a letter carrying a snowdrop from my grandma announcing Springtime once again on the way.

I simply look at the landscape.

Only the beating of the heart.

What if I had only this perfect fragment of eternity-’cause present is eternity- would it be a vivid memory when everything fades  away?

I guess I’ll recall it, whenever I’ll be looking for inspiration, whenever winter is about to turn into Spring, and most of all, when the feeling of longing won’t let go.

 

 

 

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About Odile Milton

I travel through words whenever possible. Odile Milton is my signature on the web as I wanted an alter ego to indicate only my writings and works, not my personal life. Odile like the dancer in black swan, and Milton from the novel An old-fashioned girl. View all posts by Odile Milton

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