Another thank you to each of you who are sharing with so much courage and beauty on this often challenging topic.
From the begging bowl to the singing bowl, today’s poetry continues our conversation.
Song Offerings (Gitanjali) – an excerpt
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail
vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with
This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and
dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its
limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.
Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of
mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room