How nice to exchange in this blind sea of a place - glimpses of each other's light - even in the illumination of the dark within - because night is just day waiting to realize itself. Sweetness & Light
He said, “Sing” and I tried to sing.
He said, “Song” and I tried to carry the tune.
He said, “Sang” and I longed for the refrain.
He said, “Sung” and I had to let the echoes go.
You wrote this?
Wow.
The daily, weekly, or whenever it occurs to any of us. That seeking, that madness, the space in between. It is sometimes a struggle, sometimes a pleasure.
Verbs. Not always necessary...
Nouns... on the other hand... place, person, or thing. Right? The who and what of our lives.
Interjections! Oh my! The intensity of what we live.
Good night, Pistil.
Still no verb in here...