Art is a journey into the most unknown thing of all - oneself. Nobody knows his own frontiers… I don’t think I’d ever want to take a road if I knew where it led.

Louis Kahan
    even the sparrows
are quarreling—
steady winter rain
    Something was promised to
me by the afternoon and the
mountain. I have lost it.
    snow melting—
at the gate the sparrows’
New Year’s bash!
    just existing
I exist…
snow flitting down
    come, come, snow!
the young pine needs
new clothes
    looking delicious
the snow falling softly
softly
    sprinkled in
with the new year’s rain…
flitting snow
    a new year—
the same nonsense
piled on nonsense