The posture is the natural alcove
Offered to the soul at sunset.
The fresh morning landscape contemplated before sunrise.
Both the comfort of the intertwined vines and the openness of boundless meadows,
The posture in my days of adventure and my pilgrim refuge.
Notes & Silence 
I was not aware the soul (or spirit, assuming a difference – something of which I am unsure, though I am aware of distinctions proposed by others as some sort of doctrinal fact) could fit into an alcove. How can the physical offer a place to that which it cannot contain?
J’aimeJ’aime