… Perhaps momentarily,
when swimming with the stream,
we are the stream; when moving with the music,
we are the music; when rocking the
wounded, we are the suffering.
Perhaps love is an instrument
we play for all we’re worth in an
orchestra yet to be convened.
Perhaps this is why, in the fullest of
moments of loving or knowing
or being, we go nameless and timeless
and breathless – everything used up,
like a candle, burned over and over,
just to light entire rooms with our flicker … – Mark Nepo – (with liberties)
Perhaps;
PiYo Monday At 8:00 am
William
(To Much Fathers Day Fun, Thanks Boys)