Those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief
turning downward through it's black water
to the place we cannot breathe
will never know the source
from which we drink
the secret water, cold and clear
nor find in the darkness glimmering
the small round coins
thrown by those who wished for
something else.
David Whyte
the still surface on the well of grief
turning downward through it's black water
to the place we cannot breathe
will never know the source
from which we drink
the secret water, cold and clear
nor find in the darkness glimmering
the small round coins
thrown by those who wished for
David Whyte
John, Renee and Michele
John, Renee and Michele
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2 comments:
I'm really enjoying your blog. You are doing a fabulous job, interpreting all those amazing old letters.
lovely photos, so lucky to have them!
judy
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