I barely recognize myself lately. A strange calm has taken the wind from my sails. Yet my tiller reverberates, partially submerged in the murky waters. My mooring repels me. My anchor drags the sea floor, stirring up jetsam, snagging flotsam. I stand, waiting for a clear breeze, longing for refuge, harboring none.
Causes Jodi Thompson Supports
Unitarian Universalist Service Committee