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Writer's pictureiamchastityann

Mid Winter Thoughts

I am reminded of the gentle ways of the divine. How the sun kisses your skin on frigid days and how the ice melts beneath your feet or from the warmth of one’s breath.

The sounds of a village some murmurs in the crowds, hanging herbs and fires crackling. A blacksmith creating… the embers scorching. Then time stops, there is a silence in the air and shifting in the heart. A passage to a mirrored world running along side the one just passed. A bridge into realities.


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