Weekends – Innerdialects

I saw this Photograph in DAVE’s brilliant Blog PHOBLOGRAPHY , and it drew me right in! Thank you so much for the inspiration your work always brings.

How many footprints are we, how many miles, how many stories writ or half made, waiting, stalled,

how many lanes are we, bylane – gullies, routes, detours: how many doors have we done, thresholds; how many

shores laced with each others drift: how many piles of chatter, players of games in the sands we walked, how many grains of day and night, how many clusters of seconds, of hours:

how many stacks of us, strangers together, like a planet full of pile.…

….

@raylarn

His embrace will not just hold you, It holds all men and friend and foe, whoa,

*PiCourtesy Samuels, weekend getaway.*
…..

what’d I think His Comfort was… sweet cuddly Bear arm, warm with Paternity? His Comfort Zone is more than I dare dream… ach!

It’s in the Slap of the storm, in the Sap of the thorn,

Haha, I wasn’t chatting with God then, cuz He is in the crooky path of stray mountain goat; and I thought Love meant Light, but He takes the Night, longing like Darkness does for Dawn, for those that are unloved, forgotten…

…. all are clung together here: the healed, dead, dying, worthy, worthless, wasted idiot, reckless loser, offender, disbeliever, saint, deathless sinner : in that embrace that defies human limitations to Love like that.

Like that.