As one dies, so is one reborn.
With an eye on the sparrow and his one eye on mine.
And, the singers of hymns look at me sideways, and the modernity looks on with eyes rolled at me.
Stranded between two sonars.
But, know what?
I sing because I am happy,
I sing because I’m glad.
I sing out of key, yet, wholeheartedly.
Because I am free and here is spring.
Author: writtencasey
I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer.
With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills.
I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here.
Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.
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WrittenCasey 
it’s
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
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While looking on is the the newly emerged Persephone.
Love this, Kim!
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Nice riff on the hymn! 🙏
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Thanks, Ingrid. Was thinking about my grandmother. She loved all sorts of music and wasn’t even religious, but she thought His Eye is on the Sparrow was the greatest song ever written.
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