Kalika… mind out of time. Bebe baby born again…Puppy playing, good dog, easy. Love is all you need. Coffee morning before the guilt awakes, Guilt in its last days, a cat wandering off. Background sounds, clarion incoming from light years away. We never know when to go. On the day our spark was born as believing flesh. Believing the birth, trusting from that point in memory. Kalika…bring backwards the trust we destroyed. Needles shed from evergreen. Fingers press on. Not yet dead. Comes the power. Hindus have gods for every thought that ought to be. God in our thoughts, uncreated nor destroyed. Reconfigured even? I don’t know. Maybe not. “Transfigured” always worked for me.
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