The Bird of Paradise flower looks like an unfolding yoga mudra….I imagine it’s holding itself as an offering to the Divine, stilled in meditation.
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Looking at it I think, how marvelous…everything opens up in its own time, in perfect sync with creation. I need not heed my mind’s desires to rush into an imagined future…being and becoming dance seamlessly in every moment.
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What made the flowers and the sun and the sky?
What moves us,
you and I?
wanderings + wonderings 