Pocket Practice
My heart this morning holds everything, like one of those rain jackets that folds into its own little pocket. My...
My heart this morning holds everything, like one of those rain jackets that folds into its own little pocket. My...
This mountain air, blows with puffy cheeks and plays with the hem of my shirt. Air, rushing through the trees,...
You can drop your roots anytime, anywhere. Sitting under a tree, surely, but also at the stoplight. At your desk,...
Peach trees at the Meditation Center: each, either with a rose planted so close it coils fondly along a sturdy...