Searching for connection ever leads to you, the treasured compass point of companionship reached via surviving seas of sciagraphy rounding capes of clarity—courses by which hope handily holds love afloat. ; )

Fated both fancy-sick and sickening to anyone’s fancy, swevens ever limn the same scene: catatonic stare over waves goodbye—never waves hello—and weathered stones stacked of self upon soul upon seat. ; )

Oh, give me a break! I just finished calculating how much timber your woodchuck pal could discard and, now, I have been solicited to draft an ogive depicting your seasonal consumption of legumes. This is nuts! ; )

Stay grounded, even when head hums feared phantasms in the sky.

Pat your heart, even when taphephobia prompts a shrill cry.

Flap your wings, especially when strikes of shrikes are edging nigh.

Spread your love, especially when it gives doubters paths to fly.

Feed your soul with hope so that for each life beat, rebound is sweet. ; )

Indicia of buzzworthiness?

Where bee’s knees alight?

Where sun beams most bright?

Where beauty awes sight?

Or, where ‘happening right now’ stings ‘might’. ; )