It is like the radiance of the sun but not as bright and hurtful to the eyes.
It is the sound that is pleasant and resonant but not sugar-filled.
It is a kind of ease.
It doesn't demand attention.
There is no longer a need to please.
It is the point at which one no longer begs for another's understanding.
It is a smile that forgives all.
It is one's peacefulness, one's remoteness toward the world of materials.
It is a height that one doesn't have to climb to achieve.
It is when the passion-dough is ready for steam,
when the shrill sound of a mountain wind gives way to a gentle moan
and the streams gather into a lake.
It is the sound that is pleasant and resonant but not sugar-filled.
It is a kind of ease.
It doesn't demand attention.
There is no longer a need to please.
It is the point at which one no longer begs for another's understanding.
It is a smile that forgives all.
It is one's peacefulness, one's remoteness toward the world of materials.
It is a height that one doesn't have to climb to achieve.
It is when the passion-dough is ready for steam,
when the shrill sound of a mountain wind gives way to a gentle moan
and the streams gather into a lake.