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.
