regaining that strange feeling.
i had, years back.
a story, an art.
my empty cup, i pour a base from the boiling kettle.
adding additional, normal amounts from the flask.
my cup, filled, yet its liquid was warm.
i finish the served warmth.
putting the cup back, ever radiating.
my acceptance, understanding, quest that continued,
a light already filled my heart, it did not give space for another.
as we continue to fear the truth, which we cannot see, and cannot comprehend.
our perceived boundaries, established by our principles, which guided us when we were lost.
too many mistakes, too many scars,
but we fight on, grasping an unknown.
a foolishness, yet deserving a better.
"To the ever changing ones, who grant miracles, soar in the sky."
