"To have found You, and still be looking for You,
It's "the soul's paradox of love."
You fill my cup, I lift it up for more.
I won't stop now that I'm free.
I'll be chasing You
Like You chase me."


Looking for and missing the Divine,
to hear the whispers of the Muse
no matter how faint she is
or the distance the news must travel.
Longing to know
to hear
and feel
what it is to be united,
reunited with the feelings
of blissful love.

"And so with the dawn You’ve come
Eye to eye with nothing in between but this fragile glass
Your lips move again
I try but I can’t detect the vibrations in the air
How I’ve longed to inhale Your breath
It’s still early and I see your words getting caught
In the window slowly turning into frost

I see Your hand move and I can’t detain
Scraping down a word I can’t explain

I think I’ve known you all along
Just lost Your face in the crowd for awhile
I think I have been holding my breath all my life
Can I exhale and go into exile
Ask me now and I’ll run away with You"

Winter Rains

So close
yet so far
every movement forward
is just me falling back
and loosing
just loosing momentum
and hoping on hope
that may never arrive
as I keep falling back
and loosing sight
of every site,
every vista
that once caught my eye.

I'm at a loss for words
as I hear maybes
and less concerting phrases
and I know
I'm getting lost again
in everything
and nothing
all at once.

I would say I could
just sit here all day
letting the red roses blossom
and wither in the cold
just like the beats of my heart
but then I would simply be lying.
My heart is too weak to feel
and I flutter and fall
as I'm shaken by this wind
and all in all
I hoping for hope,
just the barest snatch of freedom
as the wind blows
and rain glistens
as it falls.

Quote of the Day - Part Two:

“The problem with writing about religion is that you run the risk of offending sincerely religious people, and then they come after you with machetes.”
-Dave Barry

Quote of the Day:

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those, who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear, which is inherent in a human condition”
-Graham Greene