Back at work

on the clock, tick-tock —

quick stop for petro

off to the B&N for a card and a quiet spot to jot

Looking for rhythm in the words, faces, spaces and places

— rhythm is the language of the soul — the gentle swishing sound of the sea as it comes ashore and pulls itself back again

The language of the Soul — the sea, breath, sound of a weeping willow branches blowing in a gentle breeze

a field of flowers reaching for the sun like a rainbow of pink, red, yellow, and purple

— a baby’s face , with his eyes fixed on you

  • two people gently embracing one another, observing each of their gazes
  • — a quiet space of reverence …… where the whisper can be heard —in a church — in the shower — in the woods — as the light shines through the glass window pane
  • the sound made when a dandelion is blown into the wind —wooooo.

Seeker of peace and truth, Artist, Photographer, Writer. More at www.CalledtoWrite.org

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