Clean vessels made of snow and powder dust
softly lifting from the gaze of the wind
Gentle hands rising towards the heavenly realm
Soft as the rain on a spider web in the early morning dawn
silky as the waters of the Meridian sea
Song of the lark reaching across the meadows of your mind
even the angels are grazing the portals of human kind  
Eyes wide open, heart agape, soul enamored
mala beads gently clacking awakening the presence
into the field of green we go to find the burnished ambers
of yesterday's lifetime glows
where we will end up , nobody knows
and so the feeling grows, and so the feeling goes
into those beautiful vessels of ours,
made of powder dust and snow.
Purity of mind, a precious find...