the overwhelm

Standard

Damn

WILD FLOWER HUNTRESS

It’s hundreds and thousands of moments of teeth grinding endurance

While franticly patching together mismatched scraps of living,

And stitching them tight together by a thin but unbreakable thread of thanks…

It’s the scream-from-a-mountain-top kind of explosion of loving

While scrambling against floods of impatience as they rip new courses,

Defying containment by long established, stable river beds…

It’s a dirty, bloody, stressful, damp and shitty onslaught

By a hungry, gorgeous and guiltless army of your own creation…

It’s a terrible blessing, a wondrous curse, this honour, this duty, life’s ultimate challenge

And a chance to look into the living face of God and know divinity as manifest within

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