Between the road and the stream, a buddleia blooms.
No one planned for it.
No one tends it.
Yet each summer it turns toward the light.
— Perhaps faith is sometimes no more complicated than that.
Between road and water
Between the road and the stream, a buddleia blooms.
No one planned for it.
No one tends it.
Yet each summer it turns toward the light.
— Perhaps faith is sometimes no more complicated than that.
Pilgrim Light 