Est. 07.07


Friday, November 6, 2009


Oh. Amber has pierced my soul. "What of it dies down a little?" I am so guilty. But now, so convicted. Thank you, Amber, for opening my eyes. Your call does not go unheard. My staff is my sword. I will protect my sheep, their imaginations, and their souls. There is no greater calling.

by AMBER on NOVEMBER 6, 2009


So what of imagination when it’s splayed open, the little ones exposed and raising their voices like commercials in explanation: Look here, Mama, at the great invisibles; see the wolf in the curtain, the train come to take us, the deep water below the bed?

So what of it - when I give the yeah -yeahs and the uh-huhs? What of it dies down a little?

As a mother, now it is my honor to put out fires or to let them burn, and how can I know how to enter in without my own attentive imagination in tact and the power of empathy in force?
…continue reading at (in)

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