What if I spoke instead of staying still, And let my truth cut clean through comfort's shell? What if I bowed no more to someone’s will, And walked away from praise that served me well? What if I paused, and chose to hear within, And let the quiet shape a deeper me? What if the fault was not my shame or sin, But fear that kept my heart from setting free? What if the wound became a do...

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Image Source: Pinterest/@HeatherChilton

 

Green leaves gently sway,
before senescence sets in,
ask them how they feel.

 

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