Why do you pretend
to be a teacher?
You are a student.
A student of cocoons,
owl music,
melting snow.
An ancient beginner
in a workshop of ferns
and meadow smells,
learning always
for the first time
to feel your feet
touch the ground,
nostrils twitch,
belly soften,
shameless yet vulnerable
as a larva sleeping
under a stone.
Such lessons require
lifetimes of practice,
of listening,
of gratitude.
Why do you pretend
to be a teacher?
Be a student
of melting snow.
A sonic journey through artistry, resistance, and transformation through music & poetry.
Existence is a state of constant flux, as is what it means to be sacred
Those who will not slip beneath the still surface on the well of grief,
You and I have spoken all these words / but for the way we have to go, words are no preparation
"I hope to God you will not ask me to go anywhere except my own country
In the heart of Gaza, where ancient stones whisper tales of endurance
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