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The temperature has risen, from the 1* F. that I enjoyed in taking
out the week's trash, to 3*. The radar map discloses that we rest on the
edge of another large field of snow, moving to the east. Relentless
winter marches on. I read Mirabai in a warm room, while faithful Feather
sleeps nearby.
Friend, I see only the Dark One --
a dark swelling,
dark luster,
I'm fixed in trances of darkness.
Wherever my feet
touch soil I am dancing --
Oh Mira sees into the darkness,
she ambles the back
country roads.
~ Mirabai (Tr. Robert Bly)
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