Where an ember of a spark remains blow gently.
Where love whispers to the heart listen gently.
Where truth points to the soul tread gently.
Wbere passion ignites spontaneity create gently.
ttaylor2017
Archive | June 2017
The Coming Years
The gift during those coming years would be seen as having to find a way she could live with herself.
There would be no one who would challenge her.
No one challenging that bewildering empty persistence with which men and women tell themselves they have a right to impose a private will upon one another.
Giving up the cruel agenda in a brief moment of illumination.
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