the understanding of peace
that the meditative flower knows.
No thought is its face,
its petals quietly folded in it’s lap.
It gently stirs in the expectancy
of being touched by dawn.
Its mind
is the ear
that listens to the ethereal whispers.
Its pale blue petals,
iridescent,
are its talents and desires
matured by discipline,
displayed in faith,
stemmed and deep rooted
in an everlasting love whose fragrance issues
forth within the circumference of my soul.
Fear nothing but the failure to experience your true nature - and then cease to fear that!
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