— Jane DeLyser
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From A Baba Lover
When I see Him
my heart turns
a somersault
like
the moon's image
in a lake
when a lover
throws in a daisy petal
that says
"...He loves me!"
| I would | |
| that I were | |
| so poor in spirit
|
|
| as to see | |
| thru the eye | |
of the needle |
|
| the coming of the camel | |
| — Robert Dreyfus |
| Sea launched spray into sky, | |
| then called it home. | |
| What recreation! | |
| From cloud to earth, | |
| drop sought the winding river. | |
| What separation! | |
| Tossed by the storm, | |
| drop lost its way. | |
| What humiliation! | |
| Becoming a tear, | |
| it wept through countless forms. | |
| What purification! | |
| But to cross the desert, | |
| It had to be man. | |
| What exaltation! | |
| Arrived at the shore, | |
| man kissed the surf. | |
| What intoxication! | |
| Man drank and was swallowed | |
| by the infinite brew. | |
| What glorification! | |
| The Ocean smiled | |
| and released another drop. | |
— Kendra Crossen |
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