January 21, 2004

soul poem

The state of my soul in seventeen syllables:

an enormous life looms
behind small, mundane tasks.
moutains through the grass.

Posted by TheIdeaMan at January 21, 2004 03:08 PM | TrackBack
Comments

Well said.
Well begun.
Well blessed.

Climb on.

Posted by: aratur at January 21, 2004 03:35 PM
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