Love of one can be a vacuum,
An entangled web zealously spun
That locks into the narrow sphere
The unity that is illusion.
When the union grows we resume
Our direction and walk not crawl
Up the path to find light of day;
The million sounds that reach our ear
Tell of new molds to semi-fired clay.
In the wind seeds randomly fall
Manifesting flowers in bloom. . .
Our feelings shared in one and all
Is the growth toward Love Universal.
Continue to Paths I, v
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