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Metta
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices! O night divine, the night when Christ was born; O night divine! O night, O night divine! John Sullivan Dwight (1812-1893) This silent night, holy night.... More »
Metta
my house vibrates with His name upstairs and down entering all ears but one now to penetrate that one self His name from all directions but it is that one call the one that swims hardest cracking... More »
Metta
I'm not from this place. This city, though surrounded in evergreens and hills, is full of rectangles and squares and is not where my heart abides. My heart lingers on 5 acres of land which... More »
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poetry
