Just above our terror, the stars painted this story in perfect silver calligraphy. And our souls, too often abused by ignorance, covered our eyes with mercy.

Everywhere we shine death and life burn into something new.

The music of revelation announces itself to the reader in somber brooding tones or in melodies light as air and one is invited to dance with the most captivating of partners: poetry.

Peace is not so much a political mandate as it is a shared state of consciousness that remains elevated and intact only to the degree that those who value it volunteer their existence as living examples of the same. Peace ends with the unraveling of individual hope and the emergence of the will to worship violence as a healer of private and social disease.

Nation-building is never a 'done deal' confined to history already established.

Then came the healing time, hearts started to shine, soul felt so fine, oh what a freeing time it was.

In a world gushing blood day and night, you never stop mopping up pain.