A glance over the shoulder a whisper in the mist, an echo through the trees. Spirit travelers, shamans and tricksters. As surely as his paddle slices the surface, he knows he is not alone. Poem by Wintercove Paddler in the early morning mist.
its so monumental to remember our identity with God over what others say our identity is. its wonderful to know no matter who comes and goes in our lives, God loves us regardless of how bad we mess up!