Shishur Sevay

I forget sometimes to write about what it is like for me here, every morning, day, night.   Whatever the chaos, the “things” that go on, trials and tribulation of living anywhere,  I am always only one hug away from a child who will take comfort on my lap, in my arms, and there is no sweeter feeling —

“Souls sang to her heart,

Harsh winds taking them afar,

She nestled them home.”       MH 

I am home with my nestlings.  I heard them calling and brought them home.