Our insides are just the same.
Nakedly disclosing our earthen-burdens
webbed of suffering, and morning joy
O’ that we may live,
like the roots that we are,
ring by ring but we are the stories.
Nakedly, we count raindrop’s golden dust.
Ode to our inner bark, that our hearts would heave
abundance…
Krissy Mosley Ministries 
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