There’s a River that flows and runs through everything.
Some will call that River Life…some call it Love…some call it God. How about we all admit we’re grasping for metaphors here, but pointing at the same beauty?
Back to the river….
…this River flows and never runs dry.
And as we enter the Flow of this River, a form of poetry begins. Poetry that melts the sacred and secular as well as the human and divine and creatively births the now…and the only place you can get it is here…in this moment…in this breath.
If you aren’t now here, you’re nowhere.
So may you enter the flow, become the poetry, find yourself flowering.
Floetry.
Ashton.Gustafson 