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Saturday, March 29
It was a fun night, with the reminiscing of childhood dreams via movies and the laughing and the long-time-no-see old friend in town.
But driving home, it was thinking about praying at a white cross that came upon me. The cross that represents everything. And you were out with brunettes and redheads, and I was flying along the pavement, wet with the rain, thinking of things that are more symbolic than real.
The wind against my face is a reminder that I am alive. And no one is here to smile with that Thich Nhat Hanh sincerity that transcends culture and boundaries and blows all affect to the ground.
I notice these things. And blameless. Translucent. I saw these things on the cross. The white cross of purity and wholeness. It is beyond and within.
But driving home, it was thinking about praying at a white cross that came upon me. The cross that represents everything. And you were out with brunettes and redheads, and I was flying along the pavement, wet with the rain, thinking of things that are more symbolic than real.
The wind against my face is a reminder that I am alive. And no one is here to smile with that Thich Nhat Hanh sincerity that transcends culture and boundaries and blows all affect to the ground.
I notice these things. And blameless. Translucent. I saw these things on the cross. The white cross of purity and wholeness. It is beyond and within.
1 Comments:
i like.
commented by 
Asterisk 8, 10:57 AM
Asterisk 8, 10:57 AM
