mariska eyck
art of joy
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Monday, January 23, 2012
my soul is a house
my soul is a house
Sometimes my soul is a house full of warmth, full of rest, full of light.
Than the trees make music.
Than the red tulip shines.
And the colors, the words come to me.
I don’t need to look for them.
Page 5, ‘Book of Life’
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