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Aug 2015
I stroll down to the wee river
The snow feathers through the mist.
 
I carry my camera
I carry my cares
I carry my requests
Yet I carry His presence.

Alone yet not alone
Out of the Spirit, into the mind
Impressions
Knowings
Perceptions.

I walk out of the mist
Back home
He carries me.
Peter Hall
Written by
Peter Hall  56/M/Scotland
(56/M/Scotland)   
270
 
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