Storms, time, seasons,
from planting to nurture to
ripeness, and then harvest.
till once again the fields lie
quiet in the arms of death.
yet knowing that too is a
call to birth!
and so the layers that would
bind our consciousness are
peeled away.
and loss and fire and dirge
define thought.
till the heart itself learns to
speak beyond an echo.
till we find we are alone,
and so, in a much deeper sense,
joined.
Awakening.
Eric Cockrell
Nurturing the Gift of Seeking 
Merci bon weekend à toi 🙂
Sublime. Great thing to behold on a dreary Monday workday! Many thanks for sharing.