Crooked Fool: Stories

Weave

Branching off, coming together, growing, multiplying

From one to the next back further than we can perceive

Whispered into little ears until voice vibrations turn to dreams curling like smoke

Shouted in streets, danced on stages, resonating into song

And never, ever silenced

Even when we think they are

Endings growing into the new

Breathing again and again and again

From before living on in us

And in those who will continue after we turn to dust and wind

Each struggle necessary to make whole

And to be

May this be a blessing

May each story take root in body and deeper

Connecting us to the infinite

Tell me a story

So I can breathe in all that has come

And all that will

Never to be silenced