Equinox
The poor sun,knowing only its own brightness,has never seen shade,never witnessed darkness,knows nothing of nightand its gentle cloak,doesn’t know how an object,an apple, say, or a face,curves into shadowand how the shadowmakes it so lovely,makes it deep and round,blessed by the shape of its disappearing,sweetened by loss,inviting an arm aroundits other side. __________________Steve Garnaas-HolmesUnfolding Lightwww.unfoldinglight.netListen to the audio recording:
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