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Behind and before, within and without, height and depths, comings and goings, beginnings and endings, near and far, in darkness and in the light, you know, the stranger in me. “O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.” Ps 139:1
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Autumn’s opus, crimson, red and rust, green and gold, the glory of season past. As grey limbs bear their naked soul, a leaf falls, blown by the wind, till its place, it knows no more.