there is always one more death to paint us an ochre without axle aiming us like a sunflower down a path a harp once followed to still the scythe before losing love against itself Dying for a good read? Revive yourself at Academy of American Poets!
... We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear ...
When we die, who is it that really passes on?
Considering how others make us who we are.
Every single time a monk crosses my path, I can’t help but stare. The blast of colour from their saffron robe, awakens me. This striking, bright shade layered onto glistening brown skin, a cleanly shaved head and pearly white smile. One of the most captivating images I have ever laid my eyes on. Simply being […] … Continue reading A Sense of Peace — Success Inspirers’ World