The beginning and end
of spiritual practice
is resting the mind
in the heart.
How the strawberry moon
floats in the womb of a pond.
How, on a plum branch,
chickadees wait in line
for a sip at your fountain.
How a dogwood blossom opens
beyond understanding.
Sweep away a thousand
reflections and scatter
the stars with one breath.
There is no other way
to get through this miracle.
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