We often tend to think of our lives, our individual situations here on earth as extended and permanent, until we are facing old age or the unthinkable, .... a crises that changes everything. In reality, our time here on earth is fleeting. Every day is a gift. We have a purpose, whether we are here eight years or eighty. Each breath counts. Praying for the people of Ukraine, and of all peoples everywhere.
I'm not sure why this little space has gone so quiet as it used to be my wandering place where thoughts and rhymes and ideas escaped into the bigger world, and then became a part of my soul. Perhaps a wanderer has to rest now and then. I honestly forget it's here sometimes waiting for me to find it again. I'm sure that I will when the noise of the world softens, and the Annish girl in me awakens once again.
