Face at Dawn

Dawn window

the cat and me

::

candle giving back

the eyes of secret fears

~wrensong~

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About wrensong

I am a poet who collects stones. I am a wanderer of creek beds and forests, canyons and high desert who, coming home, sometimes finds words to tell the story. I am a companion with others in the search for Deep, Wild Soul. I shape containers in time and space for others to come together to write, to tell their stories, to hold each other in the telling. I am a grandmother and the companion of a cat named Alaya. I often travel out into open country with a man who calls himself Dunewalker who has hung his hammock in my heart.
This entry was posted in A River of Stones, aros, The River. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Face at Dawn

  1. tmhHoover says:

    Your cat could see – but could not write the small stone for you. You were still and found what she saw. Lovely words and photo. Hope all is well for you.

  2. Libby says:

    Wow. Great photo!

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