Life is calling. I Hear it out there, beautiful And free. Resurgent.
I’m wholly other. Here but not really here. I’m Nothing you’d expect.
Hairy hands, broadly Built blacksmith, craftsman, barrel Chested, devoted Husband to Laura. Of the Tuatha de Danaan. All was green forest. “Patience,” he counsels. “For
Lord, I am your servant. I pray that all I receive today would be friendly, encouraging, and would help me to be better. I pray
Think us not children Of a lesser god, for if We suffer without End, it is the price We pay for seeing more, for Feeling
By poetpas Life of a shower head