There’s a river runs between us,you and I.Our thoughts, like tears, are liquidcarried effortlessly by the current. But you and I,we stand on the banks, oblivious;ignoring the connection,proudly touting our individualism. Still the river flows,and all you’ve suffered,and all I’ve suffered,or dreamed, or imagined, or hoped,flows with it. Step into the water with me,feel our […]
It may be foolish of me, at my age and in my current condition, but I hang on to the hope that the pain of this effort is leading somewhere: renewal, new purpose, or at the very least, a blossoming.
Indeed as graceful and majestic as a bird. I simply admire but lack such physical tenacity.
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I feel the same way. Yoga has never been my friend.
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Glad I’m not alone, lol.
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