Grace Is Prudent
In its own sight
Prudence is always little
On its own assessment
Grace remains small
Easy pond stays stale
Gentle arrows yield daily fruits
Growing wings soar
Question stirs up insight
Single heart with open ears
Is a worthy tool
Who hurries a speaking snail
Experience drifts from origin
Snorring dwarf comes awake
Browny branch becomes green
Numb skill regain sense
Lame knees acquire strength
Vision can not be fooled
And rituals do not save
Truth cannot be stopped
And wonders may lie
Comments