Days of grace, when mind bows to the Beloved.
All existence in perfect harmony with the mystery.
How could it be any other way?
How could any one single moment be in error?
Ah, this moment, full/empty, here; just here now.
The nectar of silence here for all.
Come sit and rest and drink.
Then dance with the only partner you have ever really known.
Laura Sgovio 9/8/09