Idylls and smoke from cooking fires. I don't necessarily need stars either. Words Postcard. Green Isle.

That day, I settled into a small cottage nestled between the mountains and a stream. In the quiet, rain-soaked village, time seemed to flow differently. We drank tea, cooked, and walked, passing two ordinary days this way. I watched the rain fall and stop inside the house; I lit the lamp and let it extinguish. Time left its traces on the ancient walls. At that moment, poetry from afar knocked on my heart’s door, and in such moments, I had to write. I know the essence of my words is born from the soil; I cannot reach the halls of grandeur, but all of this still feels so beautiful to me. Looking up into the cloudy sky, trying to find a star, it was then I truly realized how precious is this self that is always willing to look up and seek beauty. Lying in bed, my soul steeped in softness, in the darkness, I thanked the world from the bottom of my heart for bringing me here. Embrace beauty and kindness; smile; live simply; genuinely like some things; know what's most important. And then, be honest with yourself and the world. Tomorrow, which is in fact every day… I truly wish to become such a person. - “I Came Here” Between the mountains and the stream The earth extends its hands Gently cradling a small village The people who arrive at the village Anticipate the sunshine But what comes is always rain Yet the rain, like me, Traveled over mountains and valleys To arrive today, To arrive at this very moment And meet the window before my eyes I think I don't necessarily need clear skies either. - The silent village The shape of time is stretched long So I indulged in Napping, drinking tea, cooking And walking Walking very, very slowly Just like this Savoring the days Like searching for a star in the sky - Watching the rain fall, the rain stop Watching the light turn on, the light turn off Watching the light and shadows migrate on the old walls with time I wait here I wait here Waiting for a poem To ask me to write it down Waiting for it to draw out the purest essence Of what I possess To become a better person In my stead - And I understand deeply. I am not that kind of Bright and pure soul Not dwelling in the halls I live upon the soil But beautiful things still happen - In truth When I look up It doesn’t mean I must possess the stars What is most precious Is this seeking of beautiful things And the belief in them As an ordinary person The greatest mercy the world bestows upon me Is this heart That always desires to look up at the stars - The long day has ended. Embracing beauty and kindness Always smiling, living simply Genuinely liking things Knowing what is most important Being honest with myself and the world Ah, tomorrow I still truly wish to become Such a person _