Toivo Raun

The crescent moon on her red hair, mixed with sun's pervasive kindness. Our precious life's gentle but tough hacking instructor, dropped a grain of barley, from which great prosperity has sprung. Seemingly by accident, solid ground for appreciation of bliss whirl biscuits has taken root. In elegant robes, that unborn moon was softly transplanted. Therefore, the luminosity of her command remains evergreen. Fresh snow adorns these boughs of sand play and Sadhanas. Supplicating the Mother Lineage, I offer now to her living vision, and to her loved ones. All beings.… (meer)