Freely Weeping
I see you singing, dear one, in a field where yellow daffodils explode in joy. In the forest at the...
I see you singing, dear one, in a field where yellow daffodils explode in joy. In the forest at the...
The wounded masculine in me, so weary of going to war, longs to bring the wounded home to all the...
At the bare start of it all on Winter Solstice in the year of 2020, when the Sixth Sun arrived...
As you unfold your wet wings, dear vulnerable one, the moon rests from our gaze; she, also, tender. At the...