Sunday, September 28, 1997


resurrecting living waters like bread from dust and ashes in the study hall
percolating wavelets of being, communicating, acting and releasing
naturally, naturally
yoked sounds kissing clinging stops up from the cold cold pit, sweetbranding flames
a melody of lights, a festival of song, a healing service, one unique treasure
fingered by darkness smitten with the reaching warm embrace
penetrating the night with a beautiful smell
of life and skin and sweat and soul in the house of learning
so real, like happy toes playing mysterious notes in the cleanest clay
like a secret letter emerging from the lips of the earth
delivering the tongue of the sea
embodying it
bare and true, listening to the eternally reverberating
strumming tune stringing gentle harmonies with crazy smiles
popping out within corners like footsteps in the garden of delight
whole in the heart reunited

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