le vent souffle
Je souffre, et je souffre, et je souffre, le vent souffle, le miel est doux, mais encore, je souffre.
the grace of time
How gracious to us is time, bearing new gifts each hour. Opportunities await as seasons unfold, sing no longer yesterday’s song of sorrow.
how sweet is the morning
How sweet is the morning, the dew-dropped blades of grass greet the sun, and the birds sing to those who listen.
The Ophelia Edit 