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.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
a cloud
A cloud never says:
"I am dark and grotesque. I am useless."
It never utters a word. It never complains.
It just breaks open and pours into a sparkling, abundant rain
when it can no longer carry its own weight
No comments:
Post a Comment