Snow

The dust of a lifetime kicks up

Like a fog of confusion.

From inside this light storm

I am blind and deaf,

Directionless.

 

But on a bright day,

I stand outside the snow

And see

It’s just all my old lessons getting scrubbed,

Spring cleaning by the soul maids,

And if I clear it out

I will be able to see

From here into the next

Incorporation.

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This entry was posted in Poems From the Meditation Space and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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