Monday, December 10, 2018
Morning Practice––Poem by Dorothy
Morning Practice
Light flows
from crown to soles.
Something moving inside,
"I'm here."
Together stroking the intangibles,
hands caressing the unknowable.
Expansion of the sensed,
not touched.
Place, no place.
Time, no time.
The love field swelling
to the limits of everything,
all included.
Dorothy Walters
December 10, 2018
