“Pain made me grow in the most unexpected places. And now I know what it feels like to be a wildflower.”

She fades away falls behind the curtain of the night and retreats beyond the darkness as though she is gone for good. Yet, she always returns. And so does, love.

Snow relies on branches much like I rely on love but snow knows how to let go and I know how much it hurts.

Dawn breaks and this heart breaks, too. Yet the sun continues to rise and this heart of mine knows only of the journey down, like an eclipse of the heart.

I wish for a world where our hearts could be seen on the outside and we acred more about what our love looked like than our faces.

I am not scared of what I may find within the darkness of this forest line. But I do fear what the wild may find in me. I do fear that kind of vulnerability.

It was meant to be just rain, that went away. Yet we became the storm, of yesterday.

Wouldn’t it be a different world if love passed as freely through us as money passes through hands.

We are much like the nights sky, the big things draw our attention. But its the little things that really light us up.

I’m holding onto you, like a cloud holds rain. Knowing at some point I must let go. But waiting for the perfect storm, that will make it so much easier.

Sometimes my lion will try to roar back when I flee. But its my butterfly that keeps me silent when I leave.

You’re the crescent moon cradling all theses shadows of me teach me how to shine so there’s no distance between you and I.

Pain is as dark as it is deep. But just like anything that receives enough light, it too will fade over time and become something, a little less ominous, and a little more hopeful.

Pain often hides behind dry eyes yet that river still flows on the inside.

I’m holding happiness as though it never left it was always below my skin. Waiting to be seen waiting for the opportunity to breathe again.

It’s those hands of time saving me when nothing else can.

Skin on skin his heart beat an orchestra against her chest. Love never tires of music like this.

With all things in life, we do not get what we ask for, we get what we expect.

God honors a beautiful blend of gift and grit! He gives the gift, and He expects us to have the grit to practice and learn how to use it effectively.

One must never set up a murder. They must happen unexpectedly, as in life.

Can you honestly say the environment(s) you are in will yield the kind of harvest you are expecting?

We’ve got to be of service first before we can expect money.

The problems in life come when we’re sowing one thing and expecting to reap something entirely different.

How about a little noise. How do you expect a man to putt?

Only when the mind is still, tranquil, not expecting or grasping or resisting a single thing, is it possible to see what is true. It is the truth that liberates, not your effort to be free.