Pulled the weeds, uprooted.
Seeds are needed.
For Karma speaks.
I agree, but half-hearted.
Those seeds may be scattered
and received.
So, I speak widely over a meadow,
to the receiver.
Who waters the seeds
and forgets the weeds.
Overshadows Karma.
In the knowing, I lay and be relaxed
feeling the growth.
Tossing seeds to kill the seeds.
He waters us, as we need.
I speak to Karma and she
though it may be half-hearted.
We pulled the weeds,
Hands bleed
but the weeds are dead;
And solely uprooted.

by Bree Z. Love

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