Thursday, December 5, 2013

I Do Not Seek


There is a softening within me;

There is a softening in the world;

Definitions become faint and weakened, finally yielding.

 

Beckon to the secret yearning of your heart

Red roses in purple dusk,

Low December light on snow-soft hillside

 

I do not seek. I am.

I do not ask. I know.









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