When nothing but shade
remains on our contentments,
the leaves return
and the budding forest of unborn
dreams, breathes more loudly still,
of wonder,
aching.
Photo found here
When nothing but shade
remains on our contentments,
the leaves return
and the budding forest of unborn
dreams, breathes more loudly still,
of wonder,
aching.
Photo found here
If we are made in God’s image and God sings, then we should be singing, too.
Ancient Wisdom for Modern Seekers
Spiritual Direction for Integrated Living
From liquid courage to Sober Courage
an anamcara exploring those close encounters of the liminal kind
Collaborating with the Muses to inspire, create, and illuminate
...in such kind ways...
"That I may publish with the voice of thanksgiving, and tell of all thy wondrous works." Psalm 26:7
Blog for poet and singer-songwriter Malcolm Guite
…in the thick of things
REFLECTIONS & REVIEWS
Seeking that which is life giving.
… hope is oxygen
Homepage of Seymour Jacklin: Writer - Narrator - Facilitator
Rob's Lit-Bits 
I read this small elegy and resonated with its longing, then absorbed the photo, then re-read line one with deepened understanding. It’s an eloquent combination.
Thanks, Laurie.