A long preparation for something that always happens: i.e., death.
A long preparation for something that always happens: i.e., death.
I'm a shattered mirror. Poetry holds my broken pieces together.
Poetry to Honour the Gods
Dream it till it comes true
Poetry & Literature
And so it goes...
Unlike an Eagle, let me Flap my wings.
Finding Inspiration in the Gifts of Life
inosblogš¤
Inside the mind of an immigrant
Love is limitless. Dream, thrive and be alive.
Welcome back! —CC
Thanks a lot. It’s nice to cross words again.
You bet. I look forward to new b-jams.
My next door neighbor died relatively young about three years ago. When she told me she had cancer, she was quick to add, “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, tell me jokes instead.”
Ooops! I meant to add. She seemed to me prepared.
That’s sad and sweet. And it’s tough to remember, but: death is really another part of life.