Grandma’s Hands.

Just as trees and flowers grow  on soft supple earth, grandma’s womb birthed entire generations.  A lineage that stretches across her spine, to engraved itself at the bottom of her feet.  Like vines, the veins on  her hands told a story, and with them,  she created history. Yet she still lives.  She lives in the…

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Drip.

Just like stained doves fluttering in hay fields, I spotted you between clouds and knew even beautiful things  could be misplaced.  So I climbed the single tree in the vast hay field, only to find an abandoned birds nest with it’s eggs shattered. Twigs intertwined  between empty shells that birthed life— or maybe the shells…

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Care-takers.

White turtle doves across electric wires underneath the earth cracks and conspires to make sense of how stainless creatures  can roam unaffected  whilst the world  burns and forests are neglected, when will we think  of creatures other  that ourselves? when did we become  less than earth’s caretakers? I pray for those that lack empathy. I…

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His.

White flowers speckle across tall grass seeds that blossomed into something beautiful.   We are becoming the people we need to be ever so slightly evolving– transforming completely.   How wonderful it is to grow into yourself, to become a child of His and to accept thyself.   I wish this type of joy upon…

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