Routine. Rhythm. Ritual. It’s good for humans to adhere to some semblance of the three.
I’m thinking that if all my intentions are pure all is for the best. Of course illusions, though they appear to be real: are most often false. Leaving me to muse about dreams and memories of choice and regrets. And yet not one sticks. My heart rests easy tonight clear, fulfilled and near to capacity.Continue reading “But for summer”