A morning so still. Rain ended while I slept. Light in the east awakened me. A Carolina wren began his “Teakettle” song. By my study window I drank tea, and read. The first Beatitude spoke to me, “Blessed are the poor in spirit” being everything   I need to know. There was nothing on earth I could not let go. Solitude held and sustained me, Emptiness a companion I walk beside. Looking out, I see the clearing sky.
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