Waking up alone…


Much like the sound of early-rising finches without

the distant buffet of street noise

The smell of morning dew without

the sweetness of a freshly-cut lawn

The rise and fall of a chest without

saying anything at all


And yet…


The melancholic pang of heartstrings plucked without



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Stories From Honduras

Lena Kvigne // Missionary

The Wandering Poet

Footsteps, Footprints and Words

The Holly Tree Tales

Stories and philosophy, borne out of my own experiences of life on three continents.

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