The Swan ~Kabir
Swan, I'd like you to tell me your whole story! Where you first appeared, and what dark sand you are going toward, and where you sleep at night, and what you are looking for. . . .
It's morning, swan, wake up, climb in the air, follow me! I know of a country that spiritual flatness does not control, nor constant depression, and those alive there are not afraid to die. There the wildflowers come up through the leafy floor, and the fragrance of "I am he" floats on the wind. There the bee of the heart stays deep inside the flower, and cares for no other thing.
photo friday entry Darkness