It isn't Magic by Gregory Orr
The End of a Cold Night by lrargerich
It's not magic; it isn't a trick.
Every breath is a resurrection.
And when we hear the poem
Which is the world, when our eyes
Gaze at the beloved's body,
We're reborn in all the sacred parts
Of our own bodies:
Contracts, the brain
Releases its shower
and the tear
Embarks on its pilgrimage
Down the cheek to meet
The smiling mouth.
~ Gregory Orr ~
(Concerning the Book that is the Body of the Beloved)
Film--David Whyte: The Opening of Eyes