Dialogue

when dialogue becomes a way of living,
the lamp is always lit.
the door is always unlocked,
the window is always open.
the river flows from,
and returns to the source.
when identity becomes community,
the part is whole, the whole a part.
there is infinity in nothing,
when emptiness fills the soul....

what we call god is merely the fire,
deep within our darkest being...
poured forth as gift, taking simple forms,
a cup of coffee shared,
and the moment given to listening!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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