Rough Drafts
All is Love, Love is All.Every morning I listen to these lines, the ethereal voices, the honeyed harmony, the music passing through me like filaments of dawn,...
All is Love, Love is All.Every morning I listen to these lines, the ethereal voices, the honeyed harmony, the music passing through me like filaments of dawn,...
I walk the length of Edmonton’s river valleyand still the morning has not come. Under a bridge I light a candle and stare into the honey-coloured flameand wat...
She loves so deeply it leaves her heart empty.This is her great weakness. She listens to peddlers and politicians, and solicitors of religions,who come to the b...