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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