but, it was as if this were my first time looking and seeing the grey and weathered playhouse. It used to be majestic. sheltering them from the snow and gathering it on the slide for them to play with. it stood strong while they held down the fort. while they pelted their parents with snowballs. When when when did it happen? Where did it all go wrong? July 12, 2011.

A road that many never find,. Grace taught my heart to fear. No fences lining the Way,. To keep us in or keep them out. Always a choice to come or go. Many roads, many paths,. And green soft unmarked meadows of confusion. This Way is marked by no signs of wood or gold,.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. I think that I shall never see. A poem as lovely as a tree. Poems are made by fool like me,. But only God can make a tree. As there are sunshine and wind in the air, we all know that, I only can see them when I look at a tree. How small we are in this universe when we standing under a tree and let its shadow cover the sky above us. What if I was born as a tree, growing strong under the sun and the falling rain? April 10, 2015. Holding on and letting go.