I’ve been missing in action for a while, working on sunflowers in my backyard. In the world’s devastation, once again
I find my prayers sowing & seeping, planting and reaping. There are days where human words cannot reach, only spirit sprigs the breach,
your spirit, sit next to my spirit, be still, in all the chaos of the wind.
Weep with me, that our souls may find sanity,
help me to believe in better days
around the sun ,
unconsumed by the flood….
Honey there will be spillage!! Poem in story and verse video
God, I know you hear it…
Yesterday I felt like my writting had hit a snag, okay, okay a slump. What- ever this is, I know can write my way out. God always makes a way out. Now that ‘s not to say, there isn’t spilled milk or crying, going-on over here. I’ve done plenty. As the old saying goes, no need crying over spilled milk. I guess the writer forgot to add, when there is spillage and honey there will be spillage.
Nobody knows how far the spill spreads, a little here, a little there. Feels like I’m swimming around in it. One small drip into a thousand more, cascades off the light pink-brown table down onto the brown rustic wooden legs seeping into kitchen cracks. I’m running around looking for a clean dish rag. Why? I don’t know why?
I know this makes no sense but that’s just the way life is. There’s the…
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