It’s so strange how the snow melts from the bottom up.
Close to home, far away, news comes calling, passed away. Feel the pain, start to pray, Mind is racin’, snatched away.
Unspoken-ness is a practice. It is polished and effortless because it has been with me for so long. I wonder about these words and thoughts and ponderings even before I understand them. I work through them over time, realigning the content with the reality—fact checking my heart with my head.