sweet child of mine

sweet child of mine, i know you worry but look around twilight shadows have fallen tucking in the earth and the night is busy too as she wraps stars into the hair of the goddess moon who is preparing to dance in lushness with princes from distant lands so lay your...

november falls

november falls and like deep magick,it smells of cold amber, cold enoughto hold us to absolute honestyi walk sharpened by desire to followred hawk and wolf for half a moonalong the tender edges, where something else begins sometimes trees grow far too wide to hide...
The Beloved’s Wrist & By the Sea: In Positano, Italy

The Beloved’s Wrist & By the Sea: In Positano, Italy

“Positano bites deep. It is a dream place that isn’t quite real when you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you have gone.” ~ John Steinbeck The Beloved’s Wrist Love is a kiss on the wrist. There is a certain level of vulnerability in...

to be seen

it is vulnerable to be seen especially when trembling i say to the lamppost as it sees me be seen and the distance as if in a dream opens – you are there you watch me watching you watch it is the possibility of dreams that gives my heart no rest and sometimes i...
The Art of Loving

The Art of Loving

Here I am, with Van Gogh’s “Starry Night Over the Rhône.” I’ve always loved art, though I admit that I usually stroll through the gallery rooms rather quickly. It’s a seeking. A restless seeking until the moment something grabs me, and I am consumed by it. Today, I...
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