Monday, June 7, 2010

Shallow, sand-filled, pushed around by the tides of indecision and self-love, my thoughts lack gratitude. My anchor is in deep water where the waves don't crash, safe from the ripping shore. Hope moored deep, I swim the quiet into the unseen. Waters of love teem with color, fascination, and life. A Holy Breath diving toward the Spirit.

5 comments:

  1. Nice. :) You're off to a great start.

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  2. Chris--this is just beautiful. I know this blog thing can be frustrating and sometimes confusing. You will do well. I'm still trying to figure things out and still haven't figured out how to add new links. When I do I will surely add yours. Love the MRI images . . .

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  3. Great start! This particular entry is beautiful.
    PamT

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  4. Very poetic! I hope you entered the Bayou Writers poetry contest.

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