Written by Rob Sullivan
Nothing cleaver comes to mind precious perceptions prescribed by muses floating on Summer breeze indwelling another hand's soul
this a day quite ordinary with nary a hint, a wink a nod to special ways to hear-smell-taste-fell-see
so, let's sit a while tarry in this place just a few minutes more and wait, wait for the ceasing
let it all go winding to the sea rising in the air raining down on me
there is an ebb and a flow yes, a yin and a yang darkness will give way to light Winter his Spring, Summer her Fall
words will come and go it is the beauty, the awe that does remain shining clear warm loving and true
to remain open to impermanace allow another's suffering to break your heart of hearts here is the doorway to perception