-John McIntosh
Surface noise masks
The essence of Life
The sensitive Heart
Listens
Like the web
Of a spider
The slightest movement
Registers to its sensitivity
The trials of Life
Dull this precious gift
And much of Life
Dances past blinded eyes
The fists clench
Life becomes rigid
Freezing the
Ever-flowing Joy we Are
But Love’s gentle touch
Thaws the frozen Heart
When at last
The cry goes up
I choose to Feel
I choose to Live
I surrender
Show me, open me, Free me
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