"Let me sleep with precious stones
polished smooth by no man's hands."
I presume this line resonates with me so much
because sleep evades me often these days.
"We will disappear, inevitably rocked and rolled
by the daily bump and grind,
each wave simultaneously a flinging forward
and a torturous sucking back."
While this is certainly the case at times,
may I suggest that there are also times
when we're gently swept forward
and tenderly brought back?
May this be so at our "last exhale
and our final sweet surrender."
Namaste
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