Dear friend:-
You're here finally and I bow to the one that brought you here. You're here because you chose to be here at this time. You're here to celebrate beauty through words we speak, through deep silence. We might call them poetry or songs or chants. It does not matter what we call them. What matters most is you're here. These words come through us like flowers come through plants, like the rains pour from the sky. May we all become the light we spread, the beauty we speak. Blessings.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
This direct talk
This direct communion with you, beloved one
This direct talk with you, (that sometimes angers even the saints)
Makes this poem sing like a child
Who has not learned yet
How to worry about tomorrow.
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