An arsenal of chards: unlinked, incomprehensible.
Under the surface we wield clues to who we need to be,
in attempts to build with these
Pieces of a near-complete.
And though we brood or hurt or sting
we begin to plant in our hearts the seeds that grow to touch the path forward.
The earth yields soft,
And Truth. Love. Purpose –
these gems are mined in our living. -6.19.11
And also a personal prayer -
To drift toward the silly and the superstitious in hopes of seizing the extraordinary: may I see the light.
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