Living Water
I am the stream of my childhood summers
Running down the hill near Grandma’s Summer Garden | A history of memories tumbling | rolling spilling over rocks | Always moving forward
On the Road Past 50: My internal zephyr… from fluttery wisps to whirlwind tempests
I am the stream of my childhood summers
Running down the hill near Grandma’s Summer Garden | A history of memories tumbling | rolling spilling over rocks | Always moving forward
I was certain that when I found the poem, that it would be placed on the right side of that page. I knew the line flow would be uneven and end just about halfway down. As I flipped through the pages, I also recalled that there would be a drawing in the bottom left hand corner.
Read MoreTonight, I have a true story to tell. I am also not sure if I have the words to express all the things I wish to have others understand. This particular moment in my life is tough to grasp out of memory even though I think of it every time I drive through Delaware. 22 […]
Read MoreI regularly travel for work. Sometimes I don’t mind it, sometimes I do. Sometimes it feels burdensome and irritating and then again it can occasionally be fun and exciting. I have most certainly been to locations I may never have ventured without a purpose outside of leisure. This post is written from Washington, D.C. — […]
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