Hair Today.

 

Hashiguchi Goyō, 1920

Imagine if our heart was like our hair,

After being chopped down and cut off, 

The old parts, gone, never to be seen again,

Perhaps swept under the rug, or dusted away, collected to be burnt, along with the trash.

Over time, like hair, they would grow again,

Regain their glory, strength and length.

Dark and glossy like the ocean waves,

Wavy and soft like the clouds above,

The new is here, the old is gone,

They dangle and they shine, they feel the breeze, and smell like lavender fields after a spring rain,

Imagine if our hearts were like our hair,

They would always grow, after being broken and trampled upon…