Dear one
|
Who is singing?
I am.
Am I?
I am.
Are you sure?
I am.
How do you know?
The sound of the wind in the trees
is now my breath,
which is the sound of the waving ocean,
which is my own blood
wounding my ears
with its own sweet rushing.
I am.
I am.
I am this sweet rushing.
Let your light
|