The magnolias are expectant hands. Fleeting cupped promise.
Midday warmth drips honey slow and enormous petals extend out, somersaulting down.
Silken soft.
White heart brave.
Longing to live with such blatant abandon.
To pour my everything into rampant, gorgeous crowns of life
that fall effortlessly to the ground,
becoming humus for next season.
Is this how we bear fruit in keeping with repentance?
6 comments:
Beautiful! Found you from Imperfect Prose, glad I did. :-)
oh kath. how i've missed you. you are truly one of my favorite writers. sharing this. xo
I'm here from Em's too. This is truly lovely. And the pictures are stunning.
Yes, beautiful in every way :)
Yes ... from Em's. This is so beautiful.
thanks for this tall drink
of soft buttery peace:)
deep glad sigh,
Jennifer
Post a Comment