Feet

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  • Philosophy

    Feet

    Dirty feet beyond filth
    Black dirt, Sapphire souls
    Feet so dirty, souls so bright
    Feet grounded in the dirt
    Bring connection to earth
    While souls soar seeking spirit.
    Where do these feet meet the soul?
    In the belly of the man
    Where Buddha lives
    Where the fire lives
    Where we live.
    Men.
    Brothers.
    Connected by the dirt of Sapphire.

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

    Unknown Source

    treehouse’s Poems (3)

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