The flower that is me, Crushed – in crushing, free. Yet still I wilt here to see This dying beauty. Until You tread in victory, I languish in me. Crushed by foot, by sea Of crowd’s apathy, I will Yet trust, Christ, in Thee, Thorn-crowned on a tree, Your will Crushed; in crushing, free TheContinue reading “From Ashes: The Crushed Flower (For Therese of Lisieux)”
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The Consolations of Writing 