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"Have you ever held a mountain Cupped it gently in your hand Felt the texture of its ridges Sifted slow its granite sand." Have you Ever Held a Mountain by John Maling

Sometimes I wonder if I held my breath, would time stand still in that pause? Could I grab it’s hands and hold tight, stopping it for just one small moment so I could catch up?

When You Feel Wounded By Your Own

Dear Thriver, I once held a bird in my hand. No one else could see it, but I felt it. I felt it's heart thumping hard and afraid. It happens-- there are ways to look fine on the outside.... and no one knows what you've really survived. But honestly? You didn't just surviv