Murmurs the forest, at first one hum, until each little voice takes on its own unique quality. Each tiny voice, in perfect pitch and harmony.
One hum, many melodies. The murmur of life stirring from winter slumber,
Quickens the Spring.
Murmurs the forest, at first one hum, until each little voice takes on its own unique quality. Each tiny voice, in perfect pitch and harmony.
One hum, many melodies. The murmur of life stirring from winter slumber,
Quickens the Spring.
Words are like light, sun strands penetrating bits of matter. Where they shine, love shines. In sun strands. No matter where they fall, they fall on what needs to be loved.
They can be like the sun, words.
They can do for the heart what light can for a field. – St John of The Cross