Poetry is white
it comes dripping out of the water
it gets wrinkled and piles up
We have to stretch out the skin of this planet
We have to iron the sea in its whiteness
The hands go on and on
and so things are made
the hands make the world every day
fire unites with steel
linen, canvas and calico come back
from combat in the laundry
and from the light a dove is born
purity comes back from the soap suds
random snippets of musings 1. i usually love poetry but the apocalyptic poetry felt... depressing for some reason. maybe the thing about th...
2nd last day of ent tmr! it has actually been quite a pleasant experience things i've seen reccently - BPPV [with the rotatory geotro...
be strong in the lord and/ never give up hope/ you're gonna do great things/ i already know/ God's got his hand on you so/ dont...
Every anxious thought that steals my breath It's a heavy weight upon my chest As I lie awake and wonder what the future will hold Help ...