All our indulgences,
dried safflower leaves,
soul-fabric dyed and redyed.
Oh and the color always fades.
Whilst The indulgence of Thy name,
stays fast, like the red of madder roots.
Welfare unto all
Rab rakha
Folds of Autumn Some seasons arrive softly— in a lingering moon, distant birdsong, and memories that blush across the horizon. And when the ...
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.