I found this written in an old journal today. The author is unknown.
It is such a misguided notion to believe there is any other place to be but this one– the sweet smell of rain (the droplets falling on the very paper on which I was writing this), surrounded by poetry. A church bell chimes nearby and machines whirrrrrr all around me. The cacophony of seagulls crying…
The above picture was taken in a moment of just allowing myself to wander and be present for the present, the GIFT of the moment. Read on… I haven’t been writing here much because I’ve been so SO busy lately. not always busy with “work” but sometimes just with BEing. It’s true that i have…