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time arcs and flattens
earth convolutes as if eating itself
muffled airport static
sedated chatter and endless bling induce
a kind of waking coma
as a friend said this morning over a lukewarm latte
‘we aren’t paying attention and suddenly our lives are over’
this journey is a pilgrimage
we are seeking the mountain within
the lake within
the kalachakra moment
when all half-lives, quarter-lives and fragmented lives
converge
into a single state of purity
motionless motion
grace upon grace
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