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“Love’s gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.” (Rabindranath Tagore)

It is a calm day under a wintry sun. Over the forest and under the trees lies an air of quiet stillness. The life of the trees has retreated to their roots and they seem dormant in the quiet of the day. Trees are also reflected in the puddles of last days’ rain. The waterways and gullys are still dry, however. To recover from last summers’ drought we would need 200 days of rain like we had yesterday, I heard. It doesn’t seem like that is going to happen before next summer. 

It’s a gentle, still day, that invites to be silent and reflective, like the trees. It invites us to connect to our roots through our dreams or meditations and to connect yet again to our soul’s longing. Maybe there is a thought or a reflection that you would take into your dreams to be seen in the soft light of your soul’s wisdom. Mine would be the lines above this text, by RabindranathTagore. What might be yours?

The early dark of the winters’ evening invites me in, invites me down…

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