The Soldier

I take a look inside a mirror underneath my breath, I whisper "I see something decent in this mental patient because in his eyes, he looks more alive than me."   I look past him, over his shoulder and assume he must be a soldier because in his wake, there's a massive quake where he... Continue Reading →

The Mountains We Make

For having such wide open eyes I sure have narrow perspective Thank you, dear friend for showing me the rest of the picture For revealing the canyon I call an insignificant fissure For taking this grain of sand And showing me a mountain

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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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