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...