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created and spoken by the author of this blog kindness sis, Krissy Mosley -
created and spoken by the author of this blog
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The heart of a book, is something whispered over and over again until you can’t help but to pen-to-heart . I believe the mystical -magic is in the wonder. Will the words come? How the pages fly?
Unfold like the bones of old shaken souls. Ignite the power, the soul of my pen. Maybe for the next generation. Maybe comfort for the moment.
Empty out this soulish cry. In tears, in hope, in gratitude. These are the words that chose me. Whispers that creep..Followed by: moan-full prayers drifting. Salt-full beginnings,
watch the darkness flee,~ Kindness sister Krissy
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I started to believe my soul and I had parted ways. looking over this year and even the one leading up to this
I felt abandon, I felt the sting of loss, somewhere in the spirit of facing the truth.
I believe there is nobody human enough to take count, the cost of grieving. I believe comparing one loss to another is painful,but to touch another soul like mine, is the beginning of wholeness.
I often find my soul and I have much to discuss,many nights of pleading with my soul to stay,
C’mon soul, stay alive
C’mon soul its okay not to be okay, C’mon soul talk with me
meet me in the mirror unveil, the beauty of telling the truth
C’mon soul, you can’t stay here you’ve gotta move, you’ve gotta get up,you’ve gotta try.
you’ve gotta fight~ Kindness sister Krissy
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Sometimes change is standing still,
out in the middle of nowhere watching the breeze comb through the sky, sitting down at the banks of river, tip, the scales of grace- while the waters are flowing and the green grass tickles the heels of ivory sand.
Lay down in the coolness of the day being loved in all that God made watching me, and me watching God and God walking in the silence
and silence blowing back a smile in my direction . that’s how I knew I was something God made and God was there eavesdropping goodness …~kindness sister Krissy
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Wash me
rivers of love
like tiny rose petals
budding underneath
tapered fields
Wash me
bare
my imperfections
with the tides
Healing storms in my pocket
deeper and deeper still
Wash me…
Visionariekindess2015 (Image by Malisha Goggans)
