When the soul lies down in the grass, the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase
each other doesn't make any sense.

- Rumi

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

The Art of Flowing















I am learning to let feelings and experiences flow through me , 
 as if I were a river. Translucent  and fluid .

                                                                                                               
Clear blue with shimmering sunlight ,
Merky and shaded on cloudier days.
Black as the nights darkness with the stars and moons reflection,
lighting the way.

There will be turbulance and there will be calm ...
There will be days of gurgling and babbling . . .
Yet all will be flowing, moving through , ever changing  into something new . . .


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