flying in the breeze
tethered to my finger
a spider egg sac
flying in the breeze
tethered to my finger
a spider egg sac
from the valley bed
vapory mist rises to dance
with the morning light
cool overcast skies
the gardener works
without his hat
replacing daisies
with cool loving pansies
night grows longer
So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead. – 2 Jas 2:17
seeds that don’t sprout
fig trees that don’t bear fruit
only fit for cursing
Think of what is above, not of what is on earth. – Col 3:2
joyfully leaping
without seeing lily pads
enlightened frog