Lover’s Prayer

The art of doing nothing

ostrich eggs in south african sand

In the silence of satisfied (although perhaps guarded) anticipation of victorious arrival, one spoke. Wait, said the one. Let us be sure that we know what we are doing. Many laughed.

In the deepest dark, a body will not recognize its own fall. This is protective. Who wants to know when they are downer than they seem? What follows is total upheaval. An eye opens.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

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