Sunday, March 22, 2020

happy lostness








when thoughts become
the fringes of a kite
baring its skin,
dancing
in the clear wind
of presence,
still and moving,
at once,
I rest in the soft humus
of my newborn heart,
feeling each tug
upon that string
of love,
binding oceans
and voids
of a happy lostness
in one ordinary breath
of sheer magic.

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