
How to love – Dying: fear about dying

I found this delicate piece of glass in the street the day after my grandmother passed away.
She was small and silent. She was a painter. She had faith.
Nobody understood her, but her love was as pure and fragile as a glass heart.
The RAIN section is dedicated to you, dear "O".
Sorry, I couldn't say goodbye and thank you for sharing your heart
I give you all I am
I give you all I have
That is all I can offer
No more
No less
A man looking for the light in India shared his human touch model with me
Namaste friend