Walking in shadows, occasional whispers of light remind me I am
inadequate, but on the path to home.
The yearning, the longing, keeps doubt in check—
somehow, hoping that
someday what we partly know will be known in whole—
The here seems material, the then so far off; and this shadowed world, so full of souls and stains would break even the strongest, if not for the
the glimpses of the intangible, leading us from discomfort to discovery
After a cold and flu marathon of 6 weeks, we made a trek to our favorite gardens. Not much blooming right now, but still plenty to please the eye.
. . . layers of soft and color.