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  • let Our birds and trees be the violin and the horns
    In them we can open up our crying stars as they bleed out the pulses we need
    If we let them loose tears for us, then we become the lesser rain when the river passes
    In the dark, let us close our eyes and rest in softness
    In light, let it be the same gentleness so we remain our own guide

    Listen, those long pulling ties are calling to prayer, that which you need not doubt.
    The clear rising celebrations in senses we were loaned are alighned with the gentlest gestures
    In the time you take breathe the One breath
    let it last into silence's true call

    How can I be unseeing wihout lining up my colors
    un hearing of my own heart
    thoughtless of the gifts laid out already
    dead to others becasue life has changed?
    The bird and the tree have Given all I have had yet all I need is the spring

    Find your path now
    do not fear. ACT
    when you remember, then play Lark Ascending with the windows flung outward
    like your laughter at these cuts among the waves not far away
    then be healed a thousand times a thousand
    Let yourself be the strings
    let your loves be the horns

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