This is the realm of the passing away. All that
exists does not for long.
Whatever comes into this world never stops sliding
toward the edge of eternity.
Form arises from formlessness and passes back,
arising and dissolving in a few dance steps between
creation and destruction.
We are born passing away.
Seedlings and deadfall all face forward.
Earthworms eat what remains.
We sing not for that which dies but for that which
A winter solstice 2020 short stream for a Movement Medicine community
Where do you see a window you can open for a subtle sacrament to slip into your day?
The seed of life is within us all, our dance here is mundane, strange and wonderful.
God speaks to each of us as he makes us, then walks with us silently out of the night.
to fashion universes out of emptiness
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