Hope Is
Have you ever found yourself wondering why it is that some debris of your life continues to be washed ashore, if not here in this time, then down the beach or round the coastline further? And you know it's the same because it has a certain familiarity to your touch or to your senses, except that each time, it sort of looks different. Our lives ask us so many questions and I often wonder why it is we fail to answer them properly. Too busy? Too rude or just plain too scared? They ask of us some of... Sign in to see full entry.