A Harmony of tiny singers Living in the fragile green, feathers brushing webs of dream burning a most beauteous song of joy unbound, beyond time's edge, a gift to Stars and Water...
Dark the stars that do not shine, and dark the matter hidden Dark these wispy thoughts of mine that come to me unbidden of distance and infinity, no ending or beginning and transient divinity, their mortal underpinning...
Hope and fear go hand in hand. One seldom exists without the other. To hope, one must acknowledge failure as a possibility. Otherwise it would be knowing, not hope. This time, the stakes are too high to tolerate the possibility of failure. With hope, the fear is palpable, slamming me in the face. Yet, I must walk through it to the place of
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