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Fresh Snow

A morning kiss.

One mountain and a million twinkling eyes.

I want to lay down for an eternity in the soft white of your valley.

The cold passes over quietly, like the kindness of winter fog.

Give service to this blessing. Bow down again and again in a room adorned with Nothing.

Be a snow ball that the neighbor child has just thrown into the creek.

Watch as you are taken on a journey deep out to sea.

Be as gentle as the bird that has just landed on the fresh pile of snow outside my window, pecking at tips of dead grass. Watch as all the previously known laws of the universe become undone.

Let the awe be a bridge to your own undoing.

The mountain may be hiding under two-feet of snow but you can still access it through the secret door in your heart.

What the snow has given to the mountain has been given to the whole universe.

Just lay down in it and be a child making snow angels, catching snowflakes with outstretched tongue.

Here is an otherworldly offering.

It melts in the openness of a child's heart and gives mystery teachings.

 

 


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