January 6, 2014

Morning Dew



Up all night drinking sake, courage is found in the bottom of the glass long past midnight, but what of it? As the sun rises over the Akaishi mountains, that courage melts like the snows of late spring in the valleys. Under that snow, is it not the same grass that remains from before? Do we not face the same shadows that cause us pause? Are we not haunted by those same demons that hold us back? Is there a way to hold on to that bravado we feel late at night?

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