More from the Taoby Dorothy Walters
Original Language English
When some put on robes
and others bow down before them,
it is already lost.
When some speak endlessly,
while others sit wide-mouthed
writing in notebooks,
it is not present.
When groups begin to look all alike,
and comb their hair the same way
and can be found doing identical things
at a certain hour,
nothing is happening.
|-- from Marrow of Flame : Poems of the Spiritual Journey, by Dorothy Walters|