The hushed silence and the winter chill, not a ripple stirred as I rowed the boat. With a cat and a dog, I plied to float, to reach the mysterious castle behind the hill. My friends, my ancestors watch me go with the benediction without uttering a word. The morning air, calm, silent, yet like a sword pierce the heart and the river holds her flow. The houses on the coastal line, the smoke from the chimneys yet asleep, the inmates aware of the breathing deep that God alone can feel of the light divine. On one such morning, the young man left In search of horizons shining in the mist. Dec. 20 2916 Sushama Karnik. Originally shared by Tamriko Pasjuk - 2 comments Chian Tsun-Hsiung