redirect
amongst the ferns
we wicker and scare
yearning for the little finger
chance
to pay us mind
our due
but overdue is our submission to grace
of abundance
our invitation to
everlasting
the times of coming dawns
Recent Posts
See Allthe fall comes late here as i sit with pricks of insecurities salting my thoughts too sharply. the taste (its potency) blazes over every spice of life and numbs reception to all other flavors. God, ea
gently softly fixed we cry stagnant in our offering the way is blocked is fogged over by insert what you will trigger release remembrance the gaze of Light into disheveled corners where any which way
gravity the weighing of objects the weight of thoughts unstrung like dust in the moonlight carrying on unbound for chance at matter mattering to matter to be