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Tuesday, August 15, 2006


   another thought
I sometimes stand at the waters edge,
I pray and wonder,
Of birds in flight, and ripples on the surface made,
By stones or even grains of sand.
Some moments last a lifetime, some are buried deep,
Beneath old tired mountains,
And a desperate desire to sleep.

By the evening I’ve forgotten,
The sorrows that I mourn,
But each new day that is rising,
New meaning must be born.

To find it in the sunrise,
A memory or a dream,
The flight I see the seagull take,
Reminds me just to be,
Because the birds don’t try to fly,
And a fish doesn’t think to swim,
So now I consider,
Where it is I must begin…

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