Silence a shrine,
where unfolds
myriad tiny miracles;
obscure to that
naked eye.
Whispers of souls are
forever captured in the
turquoise mosaics
of stillness.
A sudden shrill,
the prayer and the
pilgrim dries up.
Silence
Silence a shrine,
where unfolds
myriad tiny miracles;
obscure to that
naked eye.
Whispers of souls are
forever captured in the
turquoise mosaics
of stillness.
A sudden shrill,
the prayer and the
pilgrim dries up.
Beautiful poem. ❤
Thanks Drac!
This is just very beautiful. Only in the stillness inside does the infinite awaken. .
So true. So very well expressed.
Thanks a lot, I’m glad you liked it! Without silence there can’t be awakening, true!
👍👍😊😊
Wah
Thanks 🙏
good
Thank you very much 🙏💐
🌷🌷