Saturday, February 13, 2010

Day One Hundred Seventy Four

Letting go of thought means letting it arise as well, gently, not pushing back. I go to touching and let concentration arise.

Who gave me this blessing of laughter and tears? More to the point, how will I let this body and mind sanctify the years?

Crows emerge and peel back the past. They dance in white dawn, sing at silence, mock my contrast.

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