Still Image

A story about one group of friends who come together to start a new venture and through many ups and downs they find their roots.

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Fly me a kite sweetheart

Like a falcon hovering around, My dreams fastened with gossamer’s thread, Gazing below the city profound. Bridle gently, with love, with zing, My life doing an aerial ballet, Gliding smoothly, sharply spinning. Immersed in a song of destiny – a new song, My hands reaching out with viscosity, Waiting for you…waiting long.

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The languages that God speaks

The languages that God speaks Posted using ShareThis

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