I see myself at crossroads in my life, mapless, lacking bits of knowledge - then, the Moon breaks through, lights up the path before me.

Sunday evenings are heavier than clouds with rain, darker too and often interminable.

Summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows.

I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.

Each heart is made of a different stone - no two feel alike nor break the same way.

I'm a modern mountebank - I believe in Physiognomy - after all, we are in control of our face - it's the map of where we've been.

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.