If not found
Beneath my
Fingers –
Space alone would dream
Your form.
And emptiness wake to
My caress.
Beneath my
Fingers –
Space alone would dream
Your form.
And emptiness wake to
My caress.
~
We exist always - before form we are the
infinite waiting for expression.
And later - as form falters and always
falls we become again the
formless heart of
our desire -
the infinite...waking to itself.
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