"Le pinceau chargé de pensées printanières rêve d'éclore en fleur au point du jour."
— Zhu Da (Chu Ta)
La voile est pliée. Il reste des souvenirs fugaces et les cendres d'un feu bleu qui tournait en rond. Un monde entier à retrouver.
Repeat: "I" maintenance is high maintenance. So much thinking and so much tiredness buzzing in the streets. It sounds like keepers of this "I" going madly safe and well in millions of bouts of anxiety, breathing shallow while collapsing.
Spring has settled. Walks in the gardens, parks and woods get the smiles going up and up.
“The career of flowers differs from ours only in inaudibleness. I feel more reverence as I grow for these mute creatures whose suspense or transport may surpass our own.”
— Emily Dickinson (April 1873 letter)
"Do not take lightly small good deeds,
Believing they can hardly help:
For drops of water one by one
In time can fill a giant pot."
- Sutra of the Wise and the Foolish
The desperately busy heart is soothed and the horizon becomes wider.
chameleonian times 
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