Each heart is made of a different stone - no two feel alike nor break the same way.
I see myself at crossroads in my life, mapless, lacking bits of knowledge - then, the Moon breaks through, lights up the path before me.
I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.
Poetry is paying attention to life when all the world seems asleep to its beauties and truths.
That icy glass reduces your beauty - dims your fire - let me be your mirror...
Some people won't even own a dog for fear it will die - you can't bubble-wrap your heart.