To be undivided must mean not knowing you are.
J. Hirshfield, After "Pocket of Fog",
This high dizzy bliss, so lost in primal love, all together
melted into a wind of music, bright herons soaring home,
rocking in Eden,
that prehensile tail I was never given
Sijo
J. Hirshfield, After "Pocket of Fog",
This high dizzy bliss, so lost in primal love, all together
melted into a wind of music, bright herons soaring home,
rocking in Eden,
that prehensile tail I was never given
Sijo
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