sunrise photo through the frozen storm door,
by Craig, 2/20
When you
die to what
you
thought was true
everything
in your life catches fire.
You are
the instrument
not the
music
If you
think you are the music
you will
stop at
the
final bar
If you
become an instrument
for the
music,
you will
go on playing
no
matter where you are
or who’s
conducting
the gig
is never over.
The
heart is always singing
Yes.
The mind
is always shouting
No.
Between
the two
we come
and go
safe on
the solid shore of maybe.
John Squadrea, from The Compass of the Rose



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