"I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you, and that you will work them, water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. " ~Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
The birds sit silent
in the deep rush of the wind through the trees.
The chill air bites into my feverish skin,
as my boots squelch through the soggy earth.