Hanami

The scent of roses contemplates the perpetual cycle of the seasons. Under the eclipses of many suns and moons, roots and thorns endure. Season after season. An immortal cycle where pleasure and pain, fresh and withered petals, scents and smells, earth and sky, earthworms and butterflies follow one another in a journey without dichotomies, without opposites, in connection with the whole. The way of the flower points the way to contemplate the immortality of divine things, in which everything participates. Dance is authentic when it conforms to the motions of the heavenly vault. Life is authentic when it contemplates truth in the seasons. There, into the eternal, leads the way of the rose.