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Post by simpledip on Oct 28, 2019 8:32:39 GMT -6
Whispering breeze conjures the music of the crickets, and tell centuries of truth.
Our breath breathes life
our eyes hold the wisdom of the ancients. Let us dance barefoot
around the embers of a fire in the middle of a forest,
inhale the crisp cold autumn air. Let us speak our prayer
at a makeshift altar. Let our every breath
be a prayer of peace as the mountains come alive
with glittering oil lamps. - Dip
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Post by susan on Oct 28, 2019 8:53:58 GMT -6
oh i miss hearing crickets,
because of living in the condo..
well done
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Post by Catlady2710 on Oct 28, 2019 10:06:28 GMT -6
Beautiful - I can hear the crickets singing in celebration
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Post by goldenmyst on Oct 28, 2019 13:14:19 GMT -6
Dip, the scene you paint is as ancient as it is beautiful to the heart. You, my friend, are a poet whose verse is many splendored in its spiritual transcendence.
John
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Post by AquarianM on Oct 29, 2019 0:02:49 GMT -6
This scene you paint at once seems both fresh and ancient. Glorious.
Dan
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Post by lostineternity99 on Oct 29, 2019 5:38:09 GMT -6
Beautifully serene wisdom in your eloquent poem, Dip.
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Post by simpledip on Oct 30, 2019 7:44:08 GMT -6
Thank you all for your kind words of appreciation.
Sincere apologies for responding so late - Namaste. - Dip
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