Stream of Life


There are moments when you feel empty. The story that led you here, devoid of cheer or despair. Left to be contemplated, like the empty mug of beer, followed by a walk home… alone…
There are moments when you feel full. The first time you felt beautiful… and other times you felt beautiful. The feeling of never having been here before, quite like this. A familiarity that does not feed upon curiosity. A feeling that there is infinity in your shy gaze. You are her offspring too. Somewhere in the stream of life, I am you.


    1. Dear angel in the dust. I am so glad you mentioned Buber. He makes conversations sound worthwhile. “Ich und Du” ๐Ÿ™‚

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