Sylvia Sharpentier

I took a long train to Gero, and
Stayed at an old ryokan with a small onsen
On the snowy day when trees fell on the track of January

The snow was eating noise at the river valley 
In the mist of time and history, 
I contemplated about life, love, family, and happiness
And came to a sense that they are all the same:
They are my warmth, the heat in the hinterland of my heart 

It was snowing softly, and I was in hot water
Under a bonsai tree growing timelessly on an old boulder

I could breathe, at last

In my defense, the art of slow living visited me out of the blue
Naked against the mountains
A frog smiled on a lotus
With a piece of towel on his head
Looking at the trees with wedding dresses
Feeling a breeze, deeper into the water

Steam blurred me, but good memories are always blurry
Like a piece of Monet's art, timeless and impressionistic
Like really bad eyesight that doesn't find faults

I listened to bamboo sticks rocking water like a lullaby
Birds were chirping distantly, and I had a grand view of the other side
Across the river

My face was glowing pink in need of few drinks, karages, and beef ramen
So I had my own small party at an izakaya late at night
Back to my stay, back to the onsen