when the wind blows right,
you can see between the sheer,
 and the solid.

It is in between there,
where you are in the presence of Love.

That deep abiding joy,
when everything is ok,
and you know you are free.
Despite what you see.

That place in time,
where you are eternal,
and nothing in this moment
can intrude with its bullshit.

There is only you,
and it’s ok.
You matter, and you
know it.

Sometimes, it comes.
But, it never stays.

2 thoughts on “Sometimes

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