The exercise:
Today's starter comes from another walking meditation note: the crying statue.
Mine:
The statue is weeping. I stand silent vigil while the city lays sleeping. The rain hits the tin roof above me more persistently than an alarm clock's beeping.
The street lamp stars are clouded by fog. A bum stumbles by like a homesick dog. Leaves plug the drains of this parking lot bog.
And I bear witness to the tears being shed; for the children without a bed and the elderly who go unfed. For the newly born and the long forgotten dead.
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