The center holds all there is to know the shape of grandparent root, the now of petals letting go to make room for rain washed fruit, a place to focus, stay true and believe. Share this: Click to print (Opens in new window) Print Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Like Loading...
Jeez…Carol. the picture and poem are exquisite. Thank you. Wow.
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Lovely….
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