Saturday, November 30, 2013


We wander through a world clouded by a gray mist
Among the changing, shapeless forms, loving or indifferent
Marking us

The truth, as always, is there
Waiting to be uncovered
As we seek to claim that part of the infinite which belongs to us

Focusing inward we penetrate the heavy veil
And glimpse with blinding clarity
What is meant to be

At that fleeting moment – when inward and outward are one
We encounter our own truths – reflected by a willing soul

Rejoice and reap the harvest sowed in darkness
It must sustain us through the lean seasons
Until the next fruitful encounter


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