Up all night drinking
sake, courage is found in the bottom of the glass long past midnight, but what
of it? As the sun rises over the Akaishi mountains, that courage melts like the
snows of late spring in the valleys. Under that snow, is it not the same grass
that remains from before? Do we not face the same shadows that cause us pause?
Are we not haunted by those same demons that hold us back? Is there a way to
hold on to that bravado we feel late at night?
