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Oh why do we blow in the wind this way when the planter of our seed had tended the grass that came before us with the tenderness and love that enriched their blades? We now wait our turn but find with each passing day, our fears increase that the planter of our seed may have found another field in which to seed and harvest. Is our destiny one that we will be the last of our kind to grace this piece of ground? We are moving all about hoping that our actions will attract and bring back.
July 21st, 2011
Viewed 67 Times - Last Visitor from Beverly Hills, CA on 03/14/2014 at 2:33 AM
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