Should we be afraid to return to the place we were before we were born? That place of no comprehension of space and time, that place without ego, without identity? Should we be afraid to return to that place of potential and infinite possibility?
As I enter my 51st year, I’m beginning to hear the far off, but familiar toll of the bells of time. While faint, like the distant sound of buoy bells off a foggy coast. I find comfort in this sound, a tranquil lullaby. A primordial memory calling me home.
Thru soulful eyes 