I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.
I have found, beauty is the illumination of the mind.
I see myself at crossroads in my life, mapless, lacking bits of knowledge - then, the Moon breaks through, lights up the path before me.
Each heart is made of a different stone - no two feel alike nor break the same way.
Poetry is paying attention to life when all the world seems asleep to its beauties and truths.
When I think of you it's with tears, because no one else has such delicate hands that can reach into my soul and calm my fears.