... take the pillow off bed, a knife from the drawer,
went up the fire escape to the roof and stabbed the pillow.
She get back to the priest as he instructed.
“Did you get the pillow with the knife?”, he asked.
“Yes, Father”, replied the woman.
“And what was the result?”, asked him.
“Feathers”she said
“Feathers?”, he repeated.
“Feathers everywhere”, she told.
“Now, I want you to go back and gather up every last feather flew by the wind.”,
the Father told.
“Well, it cant be done. I dunno where they went. The wind took them all over”.
said the woman.
and the Father replied
“That is gossip”.
For whoever was/were responsible for the all these damages, in heart, and in spirit, i will try my best to find forgiveness.
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
Life is so delicious to waste on hate. :)
... my other garden ;)
About Me
- Irma
- I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
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