A new moon’s light streaming through frozen woods cleaves my heart in small pieces each crying in wonder what lovely snow
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Giving rise to poetry, or to music and art--as an expression of Bodhichitta--is a blessing. It is a curious thing to percieve, and learn to turn, that ‘valve’ in ourselves from which such expression arrises;... More »
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Sounds–discordant; raucous laughter of sloppy drunks or the plaintive call of a loon at dawn, echoing on a pond’s stillness? A tear–of rage and frustration; a tormented being lost in delusion or of gratitude, in... More »
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