Downstream Time treads tick-ticking;
He paddles upstream to the woodland,
To hermits’ “Evergreen” bookstore:
To observe, to feel, and to be with.
Hum dreamy murmuring streams,
Mystic tip-toeing spirits mutter him;
Sooth him sweeping, balmy breezes,
And peace plays in his swelling heart.
Nuts dive in honey on his leafy plate;
Pages flip through on his rocky bed,
Anoint owls...
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