How still
can you sit
when the world
wildly spins?
Can you be
the old oak
rooted
at the center
of the forest?
Can you be
the blue mountain
rising
from the fog
at dawn?
Can you be
the clear sky
receiving
ten thousand wings
of a flock
heading home? Can you be
a deep breath
inviting
the whole world
to breathe
with you?
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