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Confucius  
551 – 479 BC    

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Gift of the Seagull


"A lonely seagull flies the winds
Majestic... soaring...gliding wings
A single screech sounds from the sky
Come fly with me... come here and fly
My spirit floats to be a part
I feel the beating of its heart
My soul, one with this bird of sea
Now knows the meaning to fly free
I feel the winds caress my soul
And soar the streams without a goal
My being trembles of delight
A treasure I received tonight
The seagull's flight of soaring high
The gift of what it means to fly."

Munda

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