Open

Open to the many births, that come forth without wombs of the ordinary nature. Open to the nature of the give, that can look like unto, "The kiss of death".

Open to the cost less, as is give, for the better reap of the harvest of friendship and more. Death gives me left-overs, with each birth unto life of death, or death unto life. Either way, always loving left-overs, if you seek they seek, to find the truth, that wishes none to perish.

A thousand deaths to die, or maybe more for each, who you are? I don't need to keep the count. Death does not die completely ever, only if they seek of the find, isn't of good measure.

Each death can bring more than one birth. Death unto life, for the life of me, is sweet, as the spirit works like the fertilizer of my soul. I may find life from death in music and song. I may find it, where you can't see, for the life of you how? For each has a different type of faith and measure there-of.

Don't judge my measure, as yours won't measure up to much worth to me. Offer constructive enjoyments of the taste of faith, I plate you with. The eat is free, please don't be offended, as the food is intended to yield life from the many deaths we die, brother to brother.

The spark of abundance awaits us all, and the abundance adds up to nothing much, if not to add up the shares, for each of the each. The last meal or first or the many day to day, there's always one in need, to bring life to the empty plate. The dead give, and leave behind the plenty of the abundance, to bring new births of recipes, even unto other types of wombs, that don't bleed.