You could be the answer
to the ancient prayer
offered in the first
breath of creation
when suns, galaxies, countless
worlds came swirling
through the silence
of your Being.
Let the face of the marigold,
or the eye of a child
remind you.
Let a wild and tiny weed,
the forget-me-not, become
a mirror of your opulence,
a mother-of-pearl
bee's wing the window
to your sky.
It could be your breath
that fills every creature.
Wake up and repose
in who you are.
Phantom Galaxy, James Webb
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