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As we delve into contemplation,

Erased are moments in speculation.

The clock is shed,

Synchronicity is thread.

Hours and intellect,

Identical features of an equal concept.

No Mindless chatter in duration,

No timing in creation.

Mind dices time,

Dwell in a trice.

Deliberation in this second,

Presence is beckoned.

This is introspection --

Birds singing,

Aircraft flying.

Yet all is undefined,

Motionless mind.

In this wondrous reflection.

A. Johnson

A women doing a yoga pose on a cliff


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