I am the hunter of whispers.
I am the gatherer of brothers and sisters.  

I am wind beneath wings, soaring in a summer sky. 
I am the chiseled smile. 

I am sparkles on snow.
I am a symphonic echo.

I am the horns and halo.
I am afterglow.

I am the you everyone wants to know.
I am everywhere you go. 

I am the aha of heartbreak.
I am gamma rays beaming through dark days.

I am ...

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“No mere human cannot stand in a fire and not be consumed.” ~ Christabel LaMotte

Consume the news,
  be confused, sing the blues, blow a fuse.

Consume potions, from drugs to Netflix,
  get lost in the Matrix.

Consume pornography,
  french-kiss misogyny.

Consume social media,
  group-think Expedia, personal-connection anemia.

Consume nature,
  become one with the savior.

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Your words are a

breath of fresh air.

It warms my heart

to see you at the

pantheon of passion,

creating a lyrical legacy,

writing love letters

across the sky,

of a beautiful dream. 

https://youtu.be/yCx8H_4E4H0

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Resistance is futile. 

You will not find rest

as long as I am near, 

whispering in your ear. 

STOP,  right now.

Write now. 

Talk about how 

love echoes 

in the valley of 

lost souls. 

Share your hopes, 

dreams, fears. 

I’m listening, 

channeling, 

ready to bathe you, 

in serenity. 

I am your muse, 

voice of truth, 

your...

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All day long 

I think of you. 

I can’t wait to get home 

to be with you,

to feel your ink drip 

between my fingers.

You are my love,

my passion,

my muse.

I know you will 

never leave me. 

We are bound 

by a legacy of words, 

that braids our soul.

Our poetry echoes 

through time and space, 

leaves a soft place 

for broken hearts to land. 

# # # 

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Mortality stalks me 
like a jealous lover.

Breathlessly follows me
wherever I go, incessantly
banging a gong, 

chanting, 

it won't be long, 
come to me, let 
the pain end.

My eternal soul sees
this game of mortal gods 

and challenges me

to go where mortals
fear to tread...

Meditate in silent space
past the black hole,

beyond illness,
depression, despair

to that ...

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For some, the writer's plight may be staring at a blank page, fear of rejection, or resistance presented in various forms. For me, the writer's plight is being available morning, noon, and night to welcome a steady stream of pop-in visitors with expectations of providing conversation, cooking, cleaning, even childcare for hours on end.

With a Mona Lisa smile, I weigh the importance of what my d...

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If you become 
what you think about 
most of the time... 

I am becoming 
poetry, a lyrical 
fantasy floating 
in rhyme. 

I am becoming 
love and light,

Doing my best
to do what's right.

I am becoming 
forgiveness 
and peace. 

Healing souls
like Wayne 
and Louise.  

I am becoming
who God intended
me to be.

Leaving a loving
legacy. 

I am becoming 
free.

###

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I inhale the tears 
welling up in my eyes.
Feeling like I don't have 
the right to cry for 

letting so much time go by
without saying hi,
how are you doing, 
what's new in your life?

I "kept in touch" 
watching your 
adventures
on social media, 

restoring 
power
after a 
hurricane, 

providing water 
and food for 
people who didn't 
know your name.

I was proud of you,
...

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Publish your poems,

your stories,

your soul songs.

A world of lonely people

are waiting for you

with open arms. 

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