What a kindness
she showers upon me,
not letting me skip any steps,
or leave not even one stone unturned.
What a mad trust she has
in this broken stumbling lover,
unwavering she ignores
my ramblings about limitations,
about my longing for a tiny bit of glitter.
You asked for freedom didn’t you, she whispers,
as she pours me another glass.
Drunk and bruised I crawl
to the table again and again.
Yes mother, more,
I give everything for just
one more sip of your exquisite
medicine of the real.
Zen Buddhism and its relation to Nonduality, the symbolism of the ensō (円相, "circular form") calligraphy, and the Heart Sutra
A duet of cello and birdsong
Give yourself permission to rest and receive lullabies for your heart.
The meaning of death and dying in a death-phobic culture and more on Sounds of SAND Episode 2
Dazzling timelapse shows how microbes spoil our food – and sometimes enrich it.
Exploring the concepts of Listening in Dreams, Deep Listening, Black Quantum Futurism, and Quantum Listening
SAND guest speaker with a taste of Sufi Whirling
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