land consecration

Poem: Deer Park









The wind brushes the palm leaves. Gentle voices float in the breeze, caress my ears, and dissolve.

The call of a quail, the screech of a hawk, and the slow steps taken in awareness, consecrate this land, erasing every trace of violence, offering it as a gift to a suffering humankind.

Giovanna Zerbi. True Wandelful Stream.

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