I think something of his Buddha-nature
He saw inside every tree and cloud
To sit in one place and look out
And behold himself arrayed
And knowing he'd never be back
In a physical body on earth again
He could take his sweet time
Kissing each thing goodbye
It must have been then he realized
He could see the object of his love
Approaching to receive his love
There is that final intermingling after all
When we become what we love
And find it's Love itself
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