Around me is love. Everywhere. Did you, my Lover, Pour it there? Am I to simply Grow aware?
…I can picture you getting on the floor, eye level with them as toddlers…
I wondered if the fixed smile–as I perceived it–wasn’t also a wince from hurt carried constantly conscious. Inescapable.
Love is a mess of romance and compassion. Compassion can remain.
After a son-to-father preface, list of 11 best free videos of the carol
Wishing we have “ears to hear” above the din of judgmental self-talk