The Longing of Poetic Life

I have long forgotten how to live poetically.

Among the blossoming flowers in spring, among the sounds of raindrops in sweater weather, between dozens of beautiful words woven into poetry. Stare at the world with a magical gaze and greet the world with a blushed heart. Soaked in the tranquility of the universe that gives peace—like the scent of morning dew that touches leaves or wet ground when it rains late in the afternoon.

PHOTO COURTESSY OF RM DEMANGAN