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In the vast riches of my Being There is a sacred mountain range In one broad swath of Space Is the most verdant pine forest Interspersed with cedars and the occasional oak Yet the unity, the Consciousness, the Life Seems eternal, peaceful, safe, even NOW As I breathe deeply, the tears roll down my face In one whisper all the swaying branches speak: Don’t cut me, don’t burn me, for YOUR sake The corner of sky is cerulean blue Then a wispy cloud – thought: I must write – passes by I do not attend. I hover between Being and Form An iota of wisdom, as I answer her call and question About immigration, work, survival. Be, do not think ...
(c) DEO,20180618

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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