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(3 votes)
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There is a place where silence meets
the roar of blood, the wind of breath.
Restless.
The black of black and white of white
important only for the contrast.
Together.
Massaged in sunlight, deep night drained,
curtain rain, desert dry, winter ice.
Mirrors.
Stillness, violence, worry, peace,
passion, boredom, hatred, love.
Balance.
Our eyes cry beauty.
Our hearts beat love.
Our minds find pattern.
Our hands hold
peace.
------ ______________________________________________
I blog irregularly at TinkerX. I'm also on Twitter. @andyhavens, go figure.
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