How the Divine Speaks

How the Divine Speaks December 13, 2010

I tried to think about my problem

but the wind from behind the cloud

turned the umbrella and brushed the

thought from my face and my worry

entered the crow on the roof who

started to caw. Then the crow

having coughed up my worry

began to fly. We can’t caw and fly

at the same time. I never noticed

this. It’s worth remembering. Look.

The tall grass bows to show its beauty.

How do I remember this?

"Monet was nearsighted and painted what he saw."

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"Thank you, Mark, for posting this incredibly beautiful and heartwarming poem. Blessings, Laraine"

The Work of Care

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