Sunday, January 17, 2016

this must be love

what is it like
to take a step
without wings
or feet?

what is it like
to be a kite
without a runner,
fluttering, drifting,
purposeless,
tugged at
from all sides,
with nowhere to go,
and so, everywhere?

what is it like
to feel this gift -
a beckoning
a calling
from inside?
to rest
in the stillness
within
the breast?

this must be love.






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