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So far, the willow blows; So far, the sands of time are swept away. So long to the river flow; Goodbye to the break of day. To the pages left unturned, To the lost pitter-patter of little feet, To the names never learned, To the faces we will never meet. Keep the fires warm And…
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The waters of the land flow quickly, forcing way through hill and valley, finding the low places to make their dwelling; the rains, however, bring great harvests, those which first look to heaven, going up as a still vapor to be drawn into the hand of God. How is it that the rivers flow into…
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Three eyes that are unblinking, Two minds, yet one that’s thinking, One foot that is unwalking, Three mouths, yet two are talking. Two hands that bear a crown Of one whose head which hears no sound, Hoping to receive a throne, Though they may receive their own. Many lives of separate paths, All with seeds…
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So, here is the beginning of the thing. There are many things which have had beginnings, some great and some small; but all have had beginnings. It is difficult to know which way a beginning will lead, but it always—as its nature demands—must begin. For some few years, I have written for my own heart, accompanied…
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Som'lorea 