And he carried the fairy-tale
in the hollow of his hand.
The sound that rose
rang like tiny bells
under water.
And the leaves of all trees
throughout the world
quivered...
With such a handful of imagination
one could travel
to foreign countries
and unknown spheres.
Or lie
on an awakening beach
amongst mother-of-pearl shells
bathed in the morning-light
with lungs filled up
by misty fog.
Listen to the sand-corns
talking sandish
and know
that only a slight bending
of the thought
would lie between this shore
and the pinnacles of the Himalayas.
Kamete
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