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Poetry from an Ecstatic Path


Night. Her blanket
tucks nature in soothingly.
Mother smoothing the
wrinkles saying it’s now
okay to do nothing at all.
The frogs sing in happiness.
The grass ruffles with soft breath.
All is well.
There is nothing in the Night
that doesn’t come by day.
They are the same.
There is nothing to fear,
the Night is as safe
as a mother’s hug
and soft kiss.
Dark bliss.

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