Life is a canvas of many strokes where shades from different palettes meet into a picture so concrete that some forget it is their own, so become framed themselves.

Gifts have ribbons, not strings.

I am in prayer. I am one hand, this Universe the other.

Poetry absolves spirituality from the dividedness of religions and provides us with a sanctuary that excludes no one.

Inspiration always arrives unannounced.

Is it a form of social play that underneath the words people say, there is a different conversation going on?

Pure at heart: to be like a flower that blooms as gloriously, brilliantly in a secluded wild wood, not seen and praised.