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What a beautiful day
There is a scent in the air of myrrh, and euphoria has sunk deep into my mind which dizzingly scrabbles wondering why I am so happy, so blissful, for no reason I can see.
There is a scent in the air of myrrh, and calm has descended, sunk deep into my bones like the naturally arising meditation that never drifts into dullness and remains unmoving as a mountain.
There is a scent in the air of myrrh, and my writing muses call, but they curl like fairies furling their wings and go to sleep.
All I can think to do is offer this to others, this bliss that is like a breath. Because I can see no reason to hang onto it, and it is really too much for one person.
Sadness comes from nowhere. And so does bliss. The same nowhere I think.
There is a scent in the air of myrrh, and calm has descended, sunk deep into my bones like the naturally arising meditation that never drifts into dullness and remains unmoving as a mountain.
There is a scent in the air of myrrh, and my writing muses call, but they curl like fairies furling their wings and go to sleep.
All I can think to do is offer this to others, this bliss that is like a breath. Because I can see no reason to hang onto it, and it is really too much for one person.
Sadness comes from nowhere. And so does bliss. The same nowhere I think.
Why, thank you.
Thank you.