I no longer need endless ceremonies and countless incantations to know you that your presence has been with me in every breath. All I need is the birdsong and a belly full of laughter that I could have ever forgotten that I came here to be fed by you.
Now may the singing fires burn away all desire for anything but your embrace. And the prayers I place at the feet of the Old Oak be for you, all you. The language of true Love lives within these selfless acts of devotion.
It is when I leave your home that I starve and mistakingly cry out as though abandoned. Yet, despite my misguided wandering toward the sound of an imposter’s voice, you feed me upon return without explanation or expectation.
So when I feel the pang of hunger may I take a breathful pause and a simple slice of Silence- because that is often the nourishment I am deeply craving. Only a true hunger and the essential dish made of your hands and lands bring alive the grace of gratitude.
Oh Mother thank you for teaching me, feeding me, loving me. Only by following the path of your Lotus scented feet I am home wherever I roam- and therefore full with more than enough to share.
Prasad.
Peace begins with how we choose to feed ourselves.
Thank you for being here. Feeding here. Receiving here.
Love, Shira
"may I take a breathful pause and a simple slice of Silence- because that is often the nourishment I am deeply craving..."
Absolutely. 💕💕💕💕