A Branch Like a Painting

He came forward alone, dressed in plain robes and white socks, immaculate from head to toe. Even the smile on his face seemed otherworldly.

Yet the moment I saw him, only one line came to mind:

“His divine bearing is lofty and pure, like a jade grove or a tree of precious gems, naturally untouched by worldly dust.”

“Amitabha. Miss Feng, we meet again!” He gave me a slight Buddhist bow. His faint smile reminded me of the Buddha's compassion.

Thesis: