At the soft boundaries
Where my hard -self becomes connected with the cosmos,
Stand the guardians and the greeters
Bearing welcoming gifts:
A bird opens a door through song
A butterfly builds a bridge in color and form
A flower unfolds its petals
As it mirrors and mimes the universe.
These weavers beckon:
A transition, a resurrection
A reunion.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
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