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, May 4, 2017
MEMORY BOX
Love
does not want
to be stored in
a memory box –
It loves its infinite
freedom
like fresh rain
gushing forth
from the sacred breast
of eternity –
its majesty to
spread healing and
its intelligence
to turn suffering into
a vast field
of roses.
since its very nature
is to give itself
freely, it also
does not want
to be owned by
anyone or anything –
wherever it finds
itself, it is sovereign,
for no force can
divide its omnipresence.
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