When I turn deeper into my separate self
and away from my connected oneness,
my discontent turns deeper, too.
I become unhappy, irritable, anxious,
impatient, angry, fearful, depressed.
When I turn toward all that I am,
I become like leaves turning toward sunlight.
2 comments:
Poem
I would like to empty
The eye of
Identity, but no matter
How much sand I scoop
Out, the hole keeps filling.
[Disposable Poem December 22, 2010]
Dr. Mike
Dr. M:
There may be words that are as true as these, but I don't know of any that are truer.
Thanks,
H. K.
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