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Write lines upon my heart
in pure white light
and I will read them
  
Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Breathe in blossoming
warm compassion

Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Touch the tender pool
of infinite white light
    
Breathe in blossoming
warm compassion

Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Meet me in the air space
between your thoughts
For this is holy ground
With the greatest humility and gratitude, I wish to dedicate this poem tonight to all of you at HP who have shown such lovely support for this quiet poem, which emerged from my deepest inner awareness.
Above all, gratitude to my Teachers.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
Shawn McEwan Oct 2015
I've wondered why the skies were blue,
The clouds, they're gray and lacking hue,
The trees are frayed, their leaves turn true,
The rivers lay bare and spilling few,
This, they whisper the answers to:
They're missing you.
Shawn McEwan Sep 2015
Rent today, own tomorrow,
A world of excess and material sorrow,
One likely to accumulate, what we call best,
Another will depreciate at their own behest,
Peaks arise from man's own wallet,
Enslaving children in far away squalor,
To keep her entertained, we need not bother,
The mother earth in her glorious colour,
Defined by time in it's infinite heap,
We reap what we sew, and so we reap.

— The End —