Sorry I’ve been absent.
This little creative outlet of mine is somewhat subject to the tides of life, and the great John Foreman once said “If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.” The tide has been out lately, exposing parts of me that haven’t seen much light in a while, lots of trash and sunken things the Lord wants to clean up. The water was murky and littered and needed the sunlight to kill off stagnant algae and silted seafloor. In the same vein, what I had on my fire burned up and he set something new aflame to lift a sweet fragrance to him. I like to think that his robes are soaked in the smell of my burning, the way my flannels reek with bonfire every summer.
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