Grabbed onto or slowly facedHonesty is but the start Of healing wounded shattered selvesOf clearly seeing hearts From retreat to near approach With trembling questions wonderedDo I really want to face Those buried hurts down under? Please…I do…I must for sureIf ever to be freeFrom the seep of festered wounds Into the heart of meContinue reading “HONESTY”
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Dew Upon The Arbor 