Sometimes it is enough
to touch a blade of grass
and feel it breathe
in the space between the fingers.
I kneel down to pray,
turning inward
to touch that place of silence.
And grace rains on me
from an ever darkening
saffron evening sky.

Poem by Ansua Dutta-Wystup

The path beckons to the distant horizon,
I put one foot in front of the other;
slow and deliberate, mindful and aware.
As if all journeys are pilgrimages.
To go to the next mountain,
or the next country.
Or to go within.
Alive in the knowledge
that each step
takes me further from the known
and into the unknown.
Leaving only traces of footprints behind
to be wiped off by wind and rain.

Poem by Ansua Dutta-Wystup

Auguste Gusteau

“You must be imaginative,
strong-hearted.
You must try things that
may not work,
and you must not let anyone
define your limits
because of where you come from.”

– Auguste Gusteau

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