Here now this morn
We notice God’s disc of light above our head,
tapping us there, that we become self-aware,
infusing bliss mists by which we are now led,
that since ego-mind has nothing to declare,
love pheromones are in our heart and spine bred,
is-ness of being-ness, in the void laid bare.
It seems like stillness but is a benign storm,
where epiphanies dawn and we but conform.
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