Whispers become twisted words

within the shadows of curtains;

the uncertainty of thoughts.


Fields are full of stonewalls.

Like good works stacked unevenly;

boasting and chest thumping.


Each day confirms the grace we

have received to welcome the

certainty of who we are.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s