"Ripples"
The ripple is not a pickle
But that which contains a clue to the truest truth of you
A drop from above, a disturbance of any kind
Bare gifts to our remembrances from beyond mind
Beyond space and time.
Like the doll, within a doll within a doll
Harken to the truth of it
The you’s of you
Multiple dimensions playing on the surface of life
When your ripple touches mine, we are together
on the bed of endless time
Poem by Ananda