my heart

the "i" you are the self within the growth that can happen as each day, begins.

little robin a song to sing a voice a choice. it is spring, rejoice.

although  not quite the same in visage and form it is this precise quality we embrace.

pretty pinks for you, i thinks. a joyful sight for those, who might.

each life is so precious and unique, they touch our hearts in more ways than we have heartbeats

whatever that be or the smaller picture of society ... we have one life and when we are gone the world is still there and going on so live...

in the face of a flower words flow with each glance a story a sequence, perhaps not by chance