when i think about the star, it is harmony where a tranquility grows our garden. peace and contentment among the wilderness of living. our timelines are commonplace, strangers, completely aligned. we miss each other, we try again. maybe we are rich soil, perhaps we are like water.
just noticing a small thing, can change the trajectory. i suppose we ask for where we want betterment in the world.
my son sleepily wanders into the room i am writing in, blows out a quiet candle. children are a miraculous lunacy. space and boundaries are liquid butterflies. love is expandable.
mystic walrus, honey, daydream.
to |deserve||dēservīre||devote oneself to the service of|
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