Life waits inside us
On the precipice of a metaphor
We are everything
We are nothing
Life dances around us
We are infinite blooms of perception
(These blooms await our trampling)
Porous and fecund
Hopelessly nearsighted
yet seeing far
Life lives in volition
our action
our stillness
our quiet
our song
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Thanks for visiting. Write to me at lynnvarian@gmail.com
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