All we have is the heartbeat
played on the drum of this day.
We are the hands on the skin,
and this hollow space
that swells with the rising sun,
pregnant with possibility.
Here resonates the call
to work and play and —
thrumming within each beat —
the sun’s farewell,
the night into which we naked return.
(Title from a poem by Antal, an 8th-century poet and the only woman among the Twelve Alvars of South Indian Vishnu worship)
Thank you, Mary, once again, for making the ordinary day, sublime.
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Beautiful Mary! Thank you.
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Beautiful, Mary!
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