
Seeing the Painting
After painting it
Flowing outward into infinity Or inward into infinity All directions lead home As does the directionless stillness
Running towards the light and away from our shadow we tear ourselves apart and cannot fix what is broken
Not until we let go and become the empty conduit can the balance of all things be the opening to the oneness of all things
We are so much more than light We are so much more than our shadow We are the artist, the painter who paints with eyes closed
But we are the lucky ones for we can open our eyes and stare in wonderment at what we painted
Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. Complete Writings of White Feather
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