Saturday’s Worship: the Chair

I choose to resist her because I cannot change her.

No stormy epiphany.

Just a maze of textures…unrelenting.

Provoking my soul.

Mother’s visceral encampment absorbs all that is bold.

And, so, she and I go.imageedit_8_2203620117

I resist her akin to my worshiping her.

Awaiting another tale to unfold.


I wandered into the woods today.  To see if I could get a better picture of the ‘chair’.  Though I had many photographs of the chair…none satisfied me.  Walking out of the woods I discovered no…better picture of the chair.  Yet, my spirit felt much improved.

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