When you are perfect, is there anywhere else to go?

It can take years to mold a dream. It takes only a fraction of a second for it to be shattered.

A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten . . .

When you are perfect, is there anywhere else to go?

I just think perfection and lasting through the ages is for Greek statues, not us mere humans.

I wonder at the weight of a Sparrow.

Maybe staying on the surface keeps her from returning to a place where she can't breathe.