Happy Easter to all.
The Word, are seeds and our bodies are the soil. How we treat our bodies and the bodies of others, with respect, discipline and value in the gifts of our body, will exercise our ability to distinguish weeds posing as flowers.
I am the soft flame that does not burn, but does provide light.
All logic points to the logic that life is not all logic.
I found welcome to a dream that I had this fish; it was beautiful in the way that I knew I loved and cherished it. Its blue iridescence was my pride and joy that I kept it close to me, protection of utmost. Waves thundered against rocks and I promised, “I will not let anything hurt you.” I road the current to carry us thorough but on the shore soul-less flesh eaters surrounded us. My promise, I could only keep it, if I ended this precious life myself and to make it quick, for they are upon us. I woke unable to honor such a promise in my dream, returning with the memory of an excruciating choice, as if it is a memory and not a dream. The trouble real, the promise unfulfilled and the welcome to a dream hunting for a source.