That day, I closed my eyes in the fragrant mist of the Sutra Hall and suddenly heard the mantra you were chanting.
That month I turned all the prayer wheels, not for salvation, just to touch your fingertips
That year, I kowtowed and crawled on the mountain road, not to meet you, just to stay close to your warmth.
In that life, I walked around mountains, rivers, and pagodas, not for reincarnation, just to meet you on the way.
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One night I was filled with emotion and wrote an essay.
Intention: