I wonder, though, how today's minutes would flow if every bucket had been properly used. Maybe the gallons we have for today's reflections would have flown elsewhere, and we would regret that, too.
i think one man's waste is sometimes another's irrigation source. some people are born with rusty buckets and pinhole leaks...or their minutes evaporate into the desert air.the reflections captured and flown elsewhere...perhaps they were met by blind eyes here, and diverted to areas of greater consciousness.
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life...gallons of minutes, with enormous regret over vital seconds leaking.
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I wonder, though, how today's minutes would flow if every bucket had been properly used. Maybe the gallons we have for today's reflections would have flown elsewhere, and we would regret that, too.
i think one man's waste is sometimes another's irrigation source.
some people are born with rusty buckets and pinhole leaks...or their minutes evaporate into the desert air.
the reflections captured and flown elsewhere...perhaps they were met by blind eyes here, and diverted to areas of greater consciousness.
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