Somewhere between the web and the weft of words— in the space where the feeling of life almost forms a thought —is the realm of being at one with the plant.
Stray thoughts, tamed.
Somewhere between the web and the weft of words— in the space where the feeling of life almost forms a thought —is the realm of being at one with the plant.
Father, forgive me, for indulging in silence and in solitude.