Sacred Realm-Poems

On a day when the spring wind dances, the chrysanthemum’s sound purifies from the soles to the lips, and straightens the neck.

The gleam of gold and lacquer loosens the pilgrim path from the perineum, lowering a pair of bridges toward the heavens.

At the border of breath, a seed flame is lit in the lanterns that stand in succession; the divine breath that leaks from two apertures begins to move with quickened steps.

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