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Poem: Feather on A Midday

If had not stopped to watch
A feather flying by,
I would not have seen its landing.
A tiny, pure white, fine feather.
Gently, I blew a soft breath to send it
Back to the spring.
In had not looked up to watch
The feather gliding over the roof,
I would not have seen
The crescent moon hanging
On a midday.

Sister Dang Nghiem, Spring 2001

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What is Mindfulness

Thich Nhat Hanh January 15, 2020

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