Crossing
the threshold into the new year
dragging a bag 1000 feet long
we must be careful
to know where our souls
reside
not in the fears
and worries
and responsibilities
but in a light skiff
buoyed by the love
of the work ahead.
Carol Carlisle
Light Words 
I like the image and I like the poem. With the death of my mother, I have crossed a threshold into another level of awareness. I am not sure what it is, but everything is different now.
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Loosing a parent is like that and you were with her so long. It really is a different world now. When did she pass?
Much love Carol
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Thanks Carol for playing this week. 😀
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