(A reflection on the second half of Verse Eight, to the beat — or tune — of “Holy, Holy, Holy”)
Empty, empty, empty
Empty of distortion
Empty of I, me, my, mine
Not permanent, not nothing
Empty, empty, empty
Empty like a womb
Empty too of emptiness
With all things always possible
Empty, empty, empty
Empty of all grasping
Free from delusion’s cause
Compassion’s power is loosed
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Copyright Deborah McGlauflin 2010. All rights reserved.
