Good Friday

The bell tolls.
The congregation settles.
The cello’s mournful groan surfaces.
The violins and flute lament in their depths below,
accentuating the agony.
The bass voices entomb us
in the sorrow.
The sopranos punctuate our grief.
And so begins
our communal requiem.

                                    From Susan Ceely Philips

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The Liminal Space

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Kindness