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Meditation

  • Jan 11, 2022
  • 1 min read

These winds are riled, and fuming

the tip of marsh.. unopened

winter reeds stand splintered

as fear rises up

from the corners of my worth

Both worry-stone.. and sunshine

calm my breathing

as i pilot through these scenes


i navigate my coward

to minute myself, thru these hours


https://t.co/NHVamj33aP

 
 
 

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