She doesn't count her stomachs or her breaths or her days. She seeks no acupuncture treatments, nor does she brew herbal teas. Being the best she can be holds no interest for her as she grazingly meditates with slow-moving hooves and jaws over a grassy pasture. Her Buddhic eyes see out and in all the way. Overflow Sometimes I'm so full of good feeling that I can't do any reading.
Nothing comes upstream.
If you are full of good feeling now, throw this poem away. It's a waste of time. Write me one. Some think they leaned upon a stronger will when all that happened was this will had shone a flashlight on some girder, deep and strong, within their own divinely buttressed soul. Mistakenly, they felt this other will support their own, when really, all are leaning safe upon the same Eternal Strength which none of us can own, but all may share.