We expect too much.
A big flash, a Damascus road.
An encounter which proves.
When really all we have to do is sit.
Listen into the depths of the soul.
Find the wellspring which never dies.
It is in the same quiet before the storm
Where we find the song which made us.
The beautiful, single note which blends
With all creation and we see the connection.
Between the makers mark and our song.
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