Our insides are just the same.
Nakedly disclosing our earthen-burdens
webbed of suffering, and morning joy
O’ that we may live,
like the roots that we are,
ring by ring but we are the stories.
Nakedly, we count raindrop’s golden dust.
Ode to our inner bark, that our hearts would heave
abundance…
I am seeing echoes here of Maya Angelou’s “The Human Family” — the poem that’s been all over TV on that Apple commercial. Good work!
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oh wow, I think of her often as I write. I went and listen to The Human Family, I must say I do miss her. Thank you for your kind words always -blessings Krissy 😉
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