Patient, plodding, a green skin

growing over whatever winter did to us, a return

to the strange idea of continuous living despite

the mess of us, the hurt, the empty.

—Ada Limón

• Zen Comes Down To Three Things
• Zeal Is A Volcano
• Yule Is When The Dark Half Of The Year Cedes To The Light Half
• Your Words Surround You Like Fog
• Your Time Is Limited