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Here His hand enters inReaching deep: scraping crevices, sweeping cornersDrawing out fears from dark placesAnd bringing them out into hot sunlightTo burn away.Burn fears, whose entangling fingers Grope at my soul,Grinding in lies like gravelInto the vulnerable places of my heart.It hurts to clean out the lies-It’s excruciating-Yet the lies thrive when only bandaged overThey…
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Warm, fresh spring air blows in through the window adjacent to my small bedside desk. The sunlight is as bright as the grass is green, and songbirds chatter in the maples and black locust trees nearest the house. On the caressing breeze I smell fresh-cut grass, and the smell of conditioner in my freshly-cut hair.…







