“She is fragile as the morning dewmelting in the warmth of a child’s smile;stirring at the lonely, lovely waft of a butterfly’s wings;tender as the curve of a wildflower petal.She is fierce as a summer stormnow raging against the fiery sky;now raining tears to soothe the sun-scorched earth.She is soft as a midnight breezeswaying to the sound of waves breakingon distant shores;whispering comfort to a worldsteeped in the dark night of inhumanity.She is brilliant as the rising Phoenixlifting the suffering from the ashes; her own suffering woven into wings of fire in the long watches of the night.She is serene and turbulent as the silvered water hiding currents unknown beneath the gentle gaze of a human who has walked a thousand miles and still has more to go.”

− L.R. Knost −