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is that they ask nothing of us. But I hear things differently from Gaia, and this wild canyon land. The chill river asks me to submerge, even in the coldest of weather. The first light of dawn: "Rise from your warm bed." The rising sun: "Stand and feel me come into your heart." The soft ground: "Please, bare your feet." Every tiny miracle, reaching, prays to me to notice, to bless with my attention and gratitude.... To Be Prayer. Loba's "Living Gratitude Giving Back to Gaia" |