Bamboo

 Even though it is immeasurable
       My prison is still tight as skin
but my horizons wide as silences

Although it is incomprehensible
       The moment is clear as pain
but the mountain inside cold as ash

Since I have known only one
       Many drops fall as from bloodshed
but the fragile division was born as orphan

Nonetheless I was lover of the loneliest desert
       Counting the walls that serve as mistakes
but swallowed all the scriptures that read as noise

Thus, metaphorical speaking aside
       The clouds raised thoughts as mothers
but motion now seems so still as bamboo

 

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