From, G.Y., Ashland, OR
Early morn in her soft robe of golden sun,
She sings to all the world.
The heart opens,
The flakes of pure intention
Meet the heart –
Here I will stay in the delicate firm of being.
The purity of her beauty overflowing,
Giving the only Life she knows –
Here – I rest in the feathered hammock
Filled with her Love,
Filled with the Peace of God.