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.
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
spiritual hunger
When
poetry comes
out of what you’ve
experienced and
felt directly
with your own heart
and soul,
when it comes
out of your holy
drunkenness,
not from what
you’ve heard or read–
when it arises
from your own
emptiness not from
your memory,
it is like the sky
spilling fresh milk
from its holy breasts -
it becomes a meal
you take for your
spiritual hunger.
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