Fallibility, Duality, Creativity all perfect in their own faults… Assumptions may make an ass out of you and me, but sometimes ignorance is not negligent. Presumption is a bit better, as it begs a question rather than knowing the answer; because there are many possible answers and none of them are wrong.

Wisdom beyond experience Is a fragile path of crystalline notions and connections. But how does one apply what one knows To the trials and joys and remorse of life, when forging one’s own path if the foundation was never clear to oneself, though obvious to the world? Breathe. Small doses. Finding balance in the swing of the…

The heart is a muscle. No matter ho many ways you cut it grind it chew it break it down It comes back as nourishment for new strength. Those who know the deepest pain have not only had their own hearts broken, but have broken their own hearts long before breaking those of others But…

Autumn brings out the lazy side of me. The addict to comfort. The one who wants to sit back in the morning with a cup of tea instead of heading outside to tend the garden at dawn. But it also brings out the child in me. The excitement of mounds of leaves to jump through….

The ebb and flow of the tides is no match for the ebb and flow of emotions in a human heart… We love and we fear often the same things we hurt and we forgive or we hold on to the outcomes that were never meant to be and hurt others for not meeting our…

The only thing the world loves more than a hero, is a hero fallen from grace. The world wants you to see only good, or only bad as they fit the current agenda But inside every monster is a wounded soul and every hero hides their need for revenge with virtue until the meanings of…

A Walk in the Rain   Did you know birds sing to the rain a sweeter song than their morning salutations? How many times must we search for home before we realize that we’ve always been there, no matter the form in which it shows up? The first blossoms of summer intertwine with the last…

April is National Poetry Month, and every year, many of my poet friends (and sometimes I) write a poem per day to prompts.  These are un-edited in their raw form.  Sometimes they turn out great, sometimes I shake my head and wonder what I was thinking later on, but they always keep my brain churning……

I saw a leaf die today dressed in her autumn splendor She let go of her branch gracefully no need of a breeze to help I saw a leaf die today with more integrity than most people Knowing her season had come that her death had a purpose That she would come back as soil…

The indelible ink of my pen Speaks when my voice fails In the times that my mind is spun From the jumble of circumstance, emotion and choice It loops around fears, anger and memories, Screaming nightmares of times long past… Choking them into submission So I can take them into control And avenge those times…