The birds are chattering at each other this morning and the squirrel hops from branch to branch out the back door. The new buds of spring are trying to burst forth in the fresh mist of a balmy NW morning.
And even the Old Man peeks out from under his covers at the whisper of spring in the air!
Welcome to my haven. This is where my heart lingers, where my soul comes to worship. Some days the muse will sing softly, but other days you will hear only the peace of the forest, the silence of the slow moving water and the quiet of the wind dancing through the leaves. You’re welcome to enter, but remember that this is a secret place, a private place. Your hopes, prayers, sorrows and joys may find an echo here. But if they choose to linger when you leave... well, this is the haven of a Dryad, after all.
A prayer, a poem, a wistful dream, the hope that will always live and the faith that will never die. The secret kept, the laughter shared, the friendship treasured and the love remembered.
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