Does the world celebrate each stone in a field wall? The hinge around which a gate opens and closes?
Each leaf that grows, then falls, is its own forgotten masterwork.
Today, Lord, let me give my work its due.
(Letter #2,216)
Does the world celebrate each stone in a field wall? The hinge around which a gate opens and closes?
Each leaf that grows, then falls, is its own forgotten masterwork.
Today, Lord, let me give my work its due.
(Letter #2,216)