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Blog Posted:4/17/2013 3:04:00 PM
On the one ton temple bell
folded into sleep. . . Yosa Buson.
“I was travelling by train from New York to Meher Baba’s Home in The West, Myrtle Beach, when I had to pass through Grand Central Station. Overwhelmed with the cacophony of noise from fellow travellers coming and going the din was deafening to the ears. Sunlight was streaming through the windows high in the roof space as shafts of light and bathed in one of these sunlit rays I happened to notice seated on a green bench the diminutive figure of an oriental woman, she was sitting perfectly still, her eyes closed, her tiny hands folded on her lap, her knees together, she was wearing exceptionally colourful clothes and tortoiseshell beaded combs in her hair, frozen to the spot I stopped in my tracks amidst the milling bustling throng because she reminded me of a beautiful butterfly asleep upon a leaf.”
“a lone butterfly
asleep upon a green leaf,
stillness in movement.”