I have been away, out of contact with myself, lost in nonaction.
Unvisited, I drift.
Is love reaching me, but unfelt?
If I’m not in the service of relating with love, receiving and giving love [always] then I’m not living.
Then I’m not me. I’m not love.
I know who I am, I know why I’m here.
Yet, I forget myself, my purpose, and who I am.
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