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Echo of the Cedars

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High above what the wind sang, the cedars echoed,

what shone on the snow peaks,

what spilled over the evening sky,

Who received this?

the one who extended his hands in prayer?

No.

It just descended into my offered heart,

It poured into my welcome tears.

It came unknown, unrecognised.

 

By means of all these and me

It brought itself to itself,

it entered itself

Alone where it is resplendent,

eyes are helplessly lowered,

Not only voice,

even the resonance of silence ceases there.

 

 

 

 

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