This sends chills down along my skin.
"It starts with nothing, or perhaps...more like everything."
Tears well in the corners of my tired eyes.
"a knowing, a nudge, a gnawing...
the need, need, need to breathe
to make (or say) something beautiful."
For your response to what is loud
to what is mean, to what is cruel
to be something kind, and beautiful and true;
quietly fierce...respectfully firm...open to learning.
"And always, always, always,
it starts in the dark."
Again with the chills; again with the tears.
We may feel alone when we sit in the dark.
Yet, if that is so, where do these sprouts of grace come from?
"Nothing" a second ago, becomes something...becomes everything.
The vast void casts out seeds...and you are earth receiving,
rooting, growing, becoming.
Namaste'
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