This soulful hour comes after dusk when failing sun breaks through the pillars of trees... I roam alone maybe to find rest on a hilly granite, sit around and there, let my body embrace light pouring down into the woods, nourished by all shades and colors of things. Hearing my own silence with a hint of windsong, should i wonder if peace be near? ...perhaps: Like so, the higher self climbs through the trellis of breeze, arriving in a funnel of light like a ray to gaze at, touch a god-like image... Enthralled by an unknown pour of surrender , I gently wander through a holy city inside myself.
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