uplifted








Perhaps we are not made of bones and blood cells after all. Perhaps we are a wing of light, brushing through this long, lovely morning of life.

Snagging sometimes on sorrow, disappointment, dreaming ...

Soaring sometimes with love.

Each of us a wish blown forth in the hope of us coming true.

5 comments:

  1. oh my. sarah. i LOVE this. that last line. truth, i believe.

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  2. thank you :-) this was one of those posts written from a place beyond my consciousness, I was half-asleep and headachy at the time. I'm still not entirely sure what the words mean but here they are ... :-)

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  3. Even when you're not writing poetry, you are.

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