when I’m not in this world, still there’s love.

 


Sometimes I like to imagine the world when I’m not in it, and it will remain ever so beautiful, ever so balanced, present and reverent and real and raw, working its way through cycles, entwining darkness, death and lessness with the fingers of unfettered streams of Light, Life and fullness.

Such a notion leaves me a lightbody, as I chose to roam this Universe as I am, presently. A lightbody, bouncing like a blackbird, making its way through the alleyways of flowering delight and isness.


There is no way 

but to walk the walk of love,

dance the dance of love,

live the life of love,

and gratefully, in deep thanks,

die its death.

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