Thursday, April 28, 2016


Never intending to grow fingers, I awoke.
Never intending to have hands, I arose.
Never intending to have legs, I moved.
Never intending to have movement, I went.
This was the miracle of moment in the
center of time as given to me.
Difficulties will often arrive in the
telling (never intending for that tongue,
I spoke). The facts remain what they
are, like the celestial Heaven above
and the warranted heavens within us.
Distance traveled to farthest shore, only
to bring us home once more. Never
intending for being, I am.

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