Never Too Late
"When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this — you haven't." – Thomas A. EdisonArchive for July 8, 2008
There is there there
In stillness, the passions I have still bubble and boil in me. My placid nature belies the flowing rivers of being in me.
Poetica
The rhythm of my writing mirrors the rhythm of me these days, rather poetic. I’m not a great poet, or great writer. All that I do here, and with others, is to express what I have in me. I don’t want this to be an exercise in navel-gazing. I want to go inside me, yes. But outward is my ultimate destination.
And right now, poetry is my path.
Still/ready
An afternoon of peace
Quiet surrounds a summer’s day
Slumber brings dreams
Of love
Of hands together
of eyes meeting
Wide amake
To possibilities
Good morning
A humid morning beckons
The workaday world stirs
The sun breaks through the clouds
Feet pound the pavement
Birds sing in the trees
Sunlight streams through leaves
The mind is still
The soul is open
