We collect data, things, people, ideas, 'profound experiences,' never penetrating any of them . . . But there are other times. There are times when we stop. We sit still. We lose ourselves in a pile of leaves or its memory. We listen and breezes from a whole other world begin to whisper.
The music flows within me like pure spirit.
What a wonderful conversation
within the flow of universal energy!
Eloquence needs no words --
I know this from intimacy with the divine.
O Great One, I give thanks for this
and for all music --
A power line fed into my heart from
the universal grid.