Musings


In the point of rest at the center of our being, 
We encounter a world where all things are at rest in the same way.
Then a tree becomes a mystery, a cloud a revelation, 
Each man a cosmos of whose riches we can only catch glimpses.
The life of simplicity is simple, but it opens to us a book
In which we never get beyond the first syllable.
OneLove
::::MME::::
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