Practicing from the Heart in the age of Technology - All articles and poems are by Reza Ghadimi, unless otherwise noted.
The sun this morning was late, waking me
My late start welcomed to a wonderland. Though it is spring, this late winter storm Blessed us with moisture In this desert and dry land. When the earth is parched and sun brutal Life hardens man, plants and beast. So, the snow on the canyon walls Trees and cactus was lovingly met. For, learned we have, to savor the little Wetness in the vaults of our body, well. To drain from the passing mist The mountains reached Into the heavens and pulled down the clouds Into the crevasses of canyons and valleys. A thick fog rolled through the dell and Up the walls. Trying to escape. The fingers of all thirsty life, though Reach deep into the heart of the mist Ensnaring the elusive moisture and drinking Its life-giving gift to heart's content. There is much hunger and thirst The world over, and man and beast Strive for a drop more and a few crumbs To live just another day. To deny them their need thus Is blasphemous. Reza Ghadimi April 2024
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