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.





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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