Lost

Mooribound thoughts in grey sliced by a jagged indigo wind! Shatter across the frozen tundra of the mind… Then conclude at the dead end of human wisdom. Gray truth of depression speaking again! Hopeless dry snow! Cold powdered emotion! Stinging the eyes and faces of all daring to come near, Offering the salve of cheerful … More Lost

Winter’s Artist

The budding artist that never quite blossomed into fame is that eccentric old woman. I am her and she is me and the hardest part about being her is accepting her. Once active hands and mind used to create things of beauty now, often lie in rest or are consumed with self-care. However, that eternal … More Winter’s Artist

Irrelevant?

What if I have written it all away? All those important things I had to say, And my creative mind fades in aging?   Should this old woman sit silent? Observing only, as life’s passions relent? And ambitions fray beyond assuaging?   Is this the day I’ve become irrelevant? A life of experience now, an … More Irrelevant?

Survivor’s Prayer

If I am still alive when the bitter cloud passes, may I not I not be found stubbornly clinging to the storm because I’ve adapted myself to misery. Instead, may I celebrate in sunlight as I embrace the sparkling new day the sun reveals. Let me move forward to clean up the damage left by … More Survivor’s Prayer

At The Sound!

One ear is tuned to hear Heaven… Another ear is tuned to the ground. Living souls do hang in the balance! Eternal Breath in mortality is wound. Divinity’s spark as light in the mind! Illuminate hope, wisdom profound! Either to ignite or be extinguished… Lost souls all fall! Carnal moribound! Faith’s seed sprouts, grows…or dies… … More At The Sound!

The Door to Joy

Near the end of a harshly-cold, long, black night, when the explosion comes and personal worlds come crashing down. Everything known shattered and scattered lying on hard-packed ground. These moments are Death but the victims are left breathing to suffer the carnage. Wait for the morning light! Every ray that glints from each broken shard … More The Door to Joy

Barren Cold Reckoning

I stand in the middle of a cold barren high desert. Winds of winter howling… Alone it seems, as I straining hear the silence exert, Power Divine! I’m cowling… In the Presence of this Holy sound my ideas dessert! All dreams flee with yowling! Whimper, return to netherworld; must die or convert! Ultimate Truth is … More Barren Cold Reckoning