We collect data, things, people, ideas, 'profound experiences,' never penetrating any of them . . . But there are other times. There are times when we stop. We sit still. We lose ourselves in a pile of leaves or its memory. We listen and breezes from a whole other world begin to whisper.
In Silence as
Bright as Round White Light
of full moon,
Thank you.
In Blessed Stillness
of new moon season
Thank you.
Life and Breath
All rest
in One.