Father of silence,
Mother of space,
Child of love,
the coming new day,
in scent of a rose
in strength of flying bird.

what we want
is not simple,
it is a mortal dream
that we could forgot our faces.
Arche your arms
in meaningless mist of mind
build a bridge between pain and joy
open your heart to take all the light and shadow
and not be afraid of any end;
into the scent of life
into the morning dew
every cell awakes
in freedom of infinite love.

~ Serena Devi ~

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