Each wish the same as the one before, look into the mirrored soul for needed answers....
Be safe,
Karen
Reviewed by blue soplain (Reader)
Reviewed on January 11, 2008
~that last line instrument intrigues. . skin oils of paintings. .. where the creation of the [he]art takes place. .looking deeper into, a paint.ing, cannot decipher the t.oil it took.
i get this illuminating feeling of passing through another soul, as when God knows us....words resonant and revered.
and nothing can move through unless we are open [porous] but poor us, we close ourselves off too often. .. afraid of that ness of being movable, malleable, makeable. ..
and that pic:: a butterfly imprint, the fluttering of angel wings.
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Be safe,
Karen
i get this illuminating feeling of passing through another soul, as when God knows us....words resonant and revered.
and nothing can move through unless we are open [porous] but poor us, we close ourselves off too often. .. afraid of that ness of being movable, malleable, makeable. ..
and that pic:: a butterfly imprint, the fluttering of angel wings.
something to curl up into, this
}{---
Love this Ted, thank you for sharing your beautiful soul.
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
Love Tinka
The beauty of the universe can never be painted by a mortal. Because like your writing it is always evolving.
Walt
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Love,
Susan
(((HUGS))) and much love, your Tx. friend, Karen Lynn. :D