It feels as if I am a cork bottle, on the blue wide open sea. Good things floating all around me. Why is it? Am I not floating? I have no control on which way the wind blows or the course my life seems to be…

but I do appreciate calming tidal waves, bouncing, boisterous spiced aromas drifting.

There’s a longing, to never be alone, another to one to be found hiding. In arms of something called home, something called -ones’ own.

Virtuous finding,

kindness sister Krissy