Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Between Seventy-five and One Hundred

We set arbitrary measures of all that is around us
All guilty the lesson no one learns
Keeping score makes no sense there is no end
Everyone you know everything you are

Understand simple things; contemplate the teen-age years
Purpose is what you are looking for and why

My breath of life your breath of life; breath of God
You have old sounds written in stone

Does this sound familiar
Each essence Naad
A manifestation brought clearly
Resuming changed by a moment

Ordinary
Nothing
Each now new

Artificial is natural in this world we believe we comprehend enough
Significance you find in your life no one else

I want you to be easier on yourself; twenty five is something


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