No sense.
Nonsense.
Sometimes most clearly
through the eyes
of the bewildered
we see ourselves
spawned upon this earth
not as peacemakers
nor avenging angels,
but fallible and human
driven to plod on.
How do we find our grace
like salmon,
like rattlesnakes
born elsewhere?
How do we know the way
it makes us,
shapes us
into words,
into song?
for Merilee
“…fallible and human
driven to plod on.”
Yes, with glorious moments in between.
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There you are. I’m behind in my blog reading, but finally arrived. Just in time.
janet
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This one is really good, John! 🙂 Nice work.
Love the country pics…always.
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