Somewhere between the womb and the wave,between the clenched fist and the open hand,there is a rhythm. It is not rushed.It is not forced.It is the rhythm of becoming. This morning, I drew three cards…
Somewhere between the womb and the wave,between the clenched fist and the open hand,there is a rhythm. It is not rushed.It is not forced.It is the rhythm of becoming. This morning, I drew three cards…