I marvel at the unreality of wonder in our world
flowing from one dim meaning to the next one
you are afraid I will never make it safely home
scattered in the grass are the scars of reckoning
how we are leaving this country of hesitation
to fly to a country of hope, our hands like wings
feathery and wide with prayer, holding nothing
only blossoming like blessings along the main
all of us dreaming just as hard as we can dream
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Pic: I witnessed a sweet exchange on the bike path earlier this week.
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