The abyss you stare into and that stares back at you is your reflection in the mirror - we all have it - that shadow self - that dark heart.

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

Summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows.

A sensual life is a ghostly existence where you live on the surface and your soul passes through everything, touching nothing.

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

December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory.

I'm not afraid of the opinions of others - but of being needed and coming up short.