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Cover photo by JanK
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Immaculate Flame
Aloneness beseeches the primal prayer, through what was lost is found. I go on searching, flying through the rafters of the moon in my canoe, a vessel of warmth, her wings folding in prayer, continuously aware: heat is joy & I will cross the finish line, aflame,
Torch of Enlightenment.
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Compassion
I remember being very young, living in Santa Barbara, and playing in my room.
I remember all my toys surrounding me, and I was very angry over something, I can’t remember.
I remember throwing a pink plastic ice cream cone on the floor, in tears, and my mother stooping to retrieve it.
I remember her telling me, we don’t treat our toys this way, and before leaving she gently placed it by my side.
I remember feeling sadness, and grieving for the object I had just abused— that was my first memory experiencing compassion.
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Margaret Marcum © 2024
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