tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24839090.post6775524381369773090..comments2023-09-03T04:09:47.820-04:00Comments on Tracing My Way From Birth: Nancy Ruthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992975981879032574noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24839090.post-25180317788493653092012-09-21T19:32:39.520-04:002012-09-21T19:32:39.520-04:00How great it'd be if words came to my hand as ...How great it'd be if words came to my hand as vivid as yours are on this <i>page</i>. Yet, these are word sorts I never want to write, if they hold <i>my</i> truth. Lots of love I have seen. Very little of death have I known. Less than my fair share I suppose. An' yet, I truly want no more of it - only the love part. In death there can be love. And what remains is maybe the purest love. Still, from now till then, I wish all my death were but imaginary. Unless. It's love's image communicated as sincerely as yours.Mr Murrayhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10606774682993753550noreply@blogger.com