[Unable to display image] Winter Song The morning sky glitters in its ice flow the land frozen in sleep yet never more awake. There is no bad blood in the vein
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, Jan 29, 2003
The morning sky glitters in its ice flow
the land frozen in sleep yet never more awake.
There is no bad blood in the vein of this dawn
a crystal transparency unmasks the face of form.
There is no cloud in the eye of perception
the tree of life has risen up shining in being,
leaf, root and tendril touching the heart of each other.
Quick is the scurry of sentient thought prints, and glad
is this glacial artery that threads all together
and where they join nothing is seen of separation.
An endless road running deep into the vision
of soil and rock surrendering, piercing through
and permeating the snowflake and ice with flashing nativity.
The universe is a prism held up in a clear drop of joy.
This day is a gratitude of chromatic revelations
and I, a walker in the fields am the grass awakening
absorbed in the intimacy of this one bright sky.
The simplicity of naked winter witnessing itself as I.
Copyright Eric Ashford Jan 2003.
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