You think that you are inferior,Not a conventional way to start..
Smaller you are, more focussed is the sleeping shadow..
It's the smallest butterflies, we see, fills in the joys..
You have marched forward, looking to grow tall..
It's the time, which builds it up, so is the path..
Losing track doesn't matter, song must go on..
I play the flute of life as it cannot play on itself..
Smaller you are, more focussed is the sleeping shadow..
It's the smallest butterflies, we see, fills in the joys..
You have marched forward, looking to grow tall..
It's the time, which builds it up, so is the path..
Losing track doesn't matter, song must go on..
I play the flute of life as it cannot play on itself..
A flower blooms more than once..
This stone would wither, not its eternal soul..
To guide the visitor to his unseen destiny, I spoke..
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Thank you for leaving a kind word at each offering,
it is in this generosity that a true sense of
belonging is born. [Lines from Rebecca's blogpost]