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 blue of the endless sky
washes over the mountain side
until the rocks are bathed
in purest sapphire and indigo.
Sugar dust of new snow
dance on the peaks,
faint and slight, white light
that shines through.
Solitude is a blessing
and silence heals,
all past wounds
and the ones yet to come.

Poem by Ansua Dutta-Wystup

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