Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Choked out.  Even those deeply rooted struggle to see the light.  They strain and strain and strain. Stretching towards the heavens with fruit filled dreams nestled within.  War torn, no obvious beauty left to hold.  Then.  Buried deep, I see it.  I see it.  Fruit. In the ugly, in the overgrown, it is there. Beauty and abundance and sustenance.  Tangible provision.
Rare moments of peace and nothingness producing beauty and abundance and sustenance. 
That, tangible provision.

Day 3 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.


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