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In spring there is first

budding and green and

dreaming ambition forming

into summer strength

and purpose giving shade

giving way to autumn

every leaf finding color

and spirit and freedom

falling to the ground


until blanketed with snow.

The hill above my window then, as

white and barren

pure and empty

solid and strong

as an ivory buddha.

Today I part my hair

a little further to the left.

Every line brings color to

the inside, to the mind,

filling and emptying.

Yet I cannot age

with the grace of trees...


return to lotus center
return to center

actions speak louder than words

om mane padme hum