Eyes wide open I meditate in kitchen garden,

Eden spread out as visual feast.

Spiritual eyes weep with what was lost…

Joy in simply soaking up beauty

of pulsing green growth

punctuated by birdsong and riots of color…

Ecstasy of sinking into love

made visible to naked eye,

not one thing covered up…

Choosing, instead, to turn away.

Bored with the same old same old

day after day after day

Grasping

Grasping

Grasping

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