Thursday, July 4, 2013



If all this is only me, 
and all I know or not of me,
How do I relate to you, 
who only knows all of you
and the more that awaits the revealing,
in our meeting?

By listening, 
making space for the fine yellow finch seeking breakfast.
By receiving the messages
By feeling my responses,
opening or closing.
By asking questions
How hungry are we?

I work on some stuff through words
So that the truth can be embodied.

Oh, the words did flow for years
Thoughts flew.

So many wild stories
So many dear stories
All love stories,
the only story there is.

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