We are forged in a crucible, round and warm. Our phoenix community; family; burgeoning. Watching the flames, Travelling with grace. Our prayers lifting with the smoke and light. Laughter and gurgling rising through the dark. And in the stillness, the coals glow, and become useful.
Thanks Ginny for sharing this poem, written on the mayBe retreat
Monday, December 28, 2009 - 12:21pm