open wide

I love you

as certain dark things

are to be loved,

in secret,

between the shadow

and the soul.


this is how we return back home…

inquiry for today~ it’s a sudden mystery….

how to find kindness

Blight and disease will never reach cloud-high

To touch those perfect clouds with flaw or pain.

Though they appear and pass, clouds never die.

Or if they die the beautiful death of rain,

They are born beautiful and white again

In this same sky or in another sky. Farther than bird-flight, mearer than nearest star,

They only seem to rest upon the hills. Thanks to all they are not and all they are

We rest in them our minds, our moods, our wills.

Moving with them we move beyond all ills

Far from the ailing earth,

yet not too far.

~Artist Aeppol

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