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#4889 - Thursday, April 11, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee

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  • Gloria Lee
    #4889 - Thursday, April 11, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee The Nonduality Highlights http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights/ At the Teahouse, 6 am Sunrise at
    Message 1 of 1 , Apr 11, 2013

      #4889 - Thursday, April 11, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee
      At the Teahouse, 6 am
      Sunrise at the octagonal hut;
      beyond, where two decks meet,
      a lizard does pushups in the sun.
      I see the green, chattering world
      through the window, I see
      my image in the window.
      Both are present; are both true?
      A bee enters the hut, buzzes
      insistently against the window,
      but the window won't yield
      to his wishes.  I want to
      show him the open door,
      say this world through the glass
      is only an illusion but I don't.
      How long will he hurl himself
      against the dusty glass?  How long
      will we believe we are not free?
      ~ Holly Hughes
      (America Zen - A Gathering of Poets)
      Web version: www.panhala.net/Archive/At_the_Teahouse.html

      Alan Larus Photography
      I Tell You
      I could not predict the fullness
      of the day. How it was enough
      to stand alone without help
      in the green yard at dawn.
      How two geese would spin out
      of the ochre sun opening my spine,
      curling my head up to the sky
      in an arc I took for granted.
      And the lilac bush by the red
      brick wall flooding the air
      with its purple weight of beauty?
      How it made my body swoon,
      brought my arms to reach for it
      without even thinking.
      In class today a Dutch woman split
      in two by a stroke - one branch
      of her body a petrified silence,
      walked leaning on her husband
      to the treatment table while we
      the unimpaired looked on with envy.
      How he dignified her wobble,
      beheld her deformation, untied her
      shoe, removed the brace that stakes
      her weaknesses. How he cradled
      her down in his arms to the table
      smoothing her hair as if they were
      alone in their bed. I tell you -
      his smile would have made you weep.
      At twilight I visit my garden
      where the peonies are about to burst.
      Some days there will be more
      flowers than the vase can hold.

      ~ Susan Glassmeyer

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