Karmic waves, rippling,
not yet fully resolved;
I feel the weight, tugging.
“White shores, and beyond,
a far green country
under a swift sunrise.”
It doesn’t sound so bad,
for all it feels so
in this moment; but that
is not love, only loss,
a muttering ego meandering,
a maudlin tale of melancholy,
a momentary mantra.
![green tall trees with view of mountain and sun peeking through](https://yeshes.online/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/sunrise-sun-morgenrot-skies-163255-500x250.jpeg)