Windstorm
The light glorious warms the hours,asking forgiveness for the galebullying trees and knocking them flat,tearing at ropes, stopping the buzz.The sharp silence inside.the gentle roar outside.Ticklish trees and leaves at playswooping and swirling,sashaying and sliding,dipping to descend in a blink,blanketing…
The Words I Choose
Freedom, love, duty, faith: these words have taken up residence in my mind, and they don’t seem likely to hightail it out of town any time soon. Safety, on the other hand, is a word absolutely not welcome in my…
Steps in the Right Direction
A wind is blowing outside my studio. I like the sound and love to see the occasional leaf slowly drift through the chill air to the ground. Stella and Henry often race around the yard at this time of year,…
You Can’t Take this Away
There was a time when I was writing lots of poetry. Then, the motivation waned. It waxes again on occasion, and I thought it would be nice to collect what I have written and what I might write here at…
Who Wanted It First?
Yesterday, I tried to put my finger on what separates me from so many people I encounter. I tossed around one notion after another, but none felt quite right until I hit upon the word “quest.” Yet even that misses…
Sifting and Sorting the Pretty and the Beautiful
I have got to get some semblance of a writing routine wedged into my days. So, here I sit, with headphones plugged into some of the classical music offerings from Halidon on Youtube. Luke shares my studio. At the moment,…
My Own Thing
How often do I change my mind, my outlook, my convictions? Yes, my convictions. If I don’t blindly hold onto a belief my entire life, it doesn’t mean that I am a moral relativist, and if I don’t keep up…
