Grace

It could be the spring storm of snow and rain— Flooding the cornfield, and finches, chickadees flocked To the feeders next to the dwarf weeping cherry In front of the window, I open the medicine box, looking for grace— The best kind for healing and mending unfinished words. It’s Tuesday, the day after Monday, and … Continue reading Grace

Khalil Gibran

Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children.