Counting stars by candlelight all are dim but one is bright; the spiral light of Venus rising first and shining best, from the northwest corner of a brand-new crescent moon crickets and cicadas sing a rare and different tune.

...if you get confused, just listen to the music play.

Being in a floodplain is like sitting down in a bathtub.

Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world.

In wickedness of pride is lost the light to understand how little grace is earned and how much given.

Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, but the heart has its beaches, its homeland, and thoughts of its own. Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings, but the heart has its seasons its evenings, and songs of its own

Ain't nobody messin' with you but you