Wednesday, September 30, 2009

This Crippled Bloom

I stumbled accross this lone, ruddy orange flower and it held my attention for many snaps. It just looks so sad and tattered poor child.

Psalm 38:7-9
For my loins are filled with a loathsome disease: and there is no soundness in my flesh.
I am feeble and sore broken: I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.
Lord, all my desire is before thee; and my groaning is not hid from thee.

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