As light as incense,
soft on the air was her life.
Fragrant, but in a moment gone–vital but fragile.
Evanescent.
To hold our moments as precious,
to not measure our eternal weight by our fractured souls,
is my broken prayer.
Month: September 2019
A Talkative Fellow–“Hello!”
Hell-ooooo!
With all the chaos . . .
. . . with all the bickering and jabbing back and forth–the polarization due to politics, persuasions, and firmly held positions–let me be one to choose joy, to choose peace and love. Let it begin right here with me.
Apronhead 