Soft Is Her Dream
I walk, no run along a path, soft to feet yet firm with stones, cobblestones of honed stones ancient but newly set. I run along this path with the legs He has given me with ease glancing at the many flowers that line the walk. I softly yet distinctly hear His voice say to me; “My dear son, touch any of the My flowers you see, give to them as you please, take them with you or not, your choice, for this is your garden that I have made you.” My eye still rests further down the p