Too many prints in the same place, because the heart’s a narrow path and our arms its only gate. At times, so many memories trample my heart that it becomes impossible to know just what I’m feeling and why: my first love laughing in a park whose name I can never...
Walk long enough and we all trade places. We are always surrounded and carried by the Whole, while we take turns holding and being held, falling and getting up, listening and trying to say what matters. This reminds me of Nur. She too had cancer and was a model of...
