In the still air, with no wind at all,A quiet leaf falls—whose footsteps are those?After endless rain, through the cracks in dark clouds,I see glimpses of blue—whose face is that?In a forest with no flowers,Through moss and ancient stones,A scent floats by—whose breath could it be?From some distant place,A tiny stream winds around rocks,Whose song echoes in its gentle flow?Like a lotus, soft fee..
