Look
Look
for imperfections, you'll find them everywhere. Now let a little astonishment
in, it's all one trick of diamond light. Don't be deceived. Be a wet sparkling dogwood blossom. Be last night's moon in blue
April morning. Be formless forest moss-mist risen into periwinkle
crepuscule. Nearly distilled to aubergine, condense into a raindrop,
fall again. Patter through a canopy of alders. Return to your cedar
root birth wound. Lie down among virescent stretchmarks. Here. Of water the earthwise wheel ever turning, and the stillness
through whom it rolls, wonder be not fooled. You are
always free.
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