Sunday, January 9, 2011

White, Frozen Fields

At last:  the snow.

And what more could we ask, those of us starting out on some new page (each day), excited or scared or both?  Pure potential.

Whatever my fear or my thrill, I ask that You walk in me, placing my feet across the expanse, one movement conveying the next.  A(t) pea(ie)ce of(in) You.  Let me be that vehicle, the medium, the gesture.

Let me not fear my vulnerability but rather see it as the space made for love to enter and exit, no matter if it breaks the field in two.

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