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With movement. Flow.

In every moment do I reach for what is real, what is true, and what is to be the door that opens to a window outside of which I see the path. I want only to walk there in the direction of the |A|ll that is to be for me along this, my life’s journey. I am open, and every day I am being led when I choose not to stand there in my own way blocking the light as though I cannot see.

I write.

I write because there is no other way. This is my prayer. Words. This is my salvation, saved from the thoughts that run like water traveling downstream in search of the quiet. There is no other way.

There is but one door and one window.

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