Let the avalanche of bad tides wash over me
like the endless brook over the pebble.
So that the pebble may say,
Even the softest current leaves a trace.
like the endless brook over the pebble.
So that the pebble may say,
Even the softest current leaves a trace.
I pray for the wisdom to know
knowledge is the pebble, not the brook.
I wait for the steely grip of cold ends
as blades of grass await the dawn.
The anticipation of a new day
matched only by its beginning.
as blades of grass await the dawn.
The anticipation of a new day
matched only by its beginning.
I pray for the wisdom to see
the morning from within the night.
Crumble the mountains so they may fall on me
like pellets of stone and lead.
With only the shrapnel of shattered bone
to find light’s string of thread.
like pellets of stone and lead.
With only the shrapnel of shattered bone
to find light’s string of thread.
I pray for the wisdom to trust
simple pleasures to be most divine.
I pray.
Namaste
