These words are crude utensils, with which to touch you, and be touched;

My father has come to dinner; He does not knock. He is not welcome. He is dead. Yet he insists on joining me

What lingers within me is ancient… prepared for the worst of all poss… No matter how deeply I rest while… it’s forever awake, coiled and rea… It seems to be from before there w…

I was surrounded by many desperate, troubled people. There was much drinking, drugging, and violence. Women were being bought and sold,

I gaze down now upon the cracked and battered shell of the fearsome fiery dragon that once held me in her sway. It’s remarkable just how frail

God has spoken. I have been listening, the message is clear. The psalm itself is silent, if the psalmist’s voice falls stil…

You think you know me, that figment dancing in your mind’… You think you understand me, that puppet dangling from imaginar… You believe you know what’s best f…

Alone, in the same old crowd, trying to ignore this stifling pain. I am but

Seems no way out, but deep within. There’s a resonant voice calling from the depths of my being; I am not what you imagine me to be…

Hello, can you see me here? Please, might you stop awhile. I am the one you pass by daily as you hurry homeward bound. I am that one who’s least of us.

How does a landed mariner ever tell a living soul about the exquisite rapture of the sultry siren’s song ? As it echoed through the mist,

I was addressed today in the secret silent language that everyone knows; except for me. It was assumed I’d know exactly

These words I cry do not come easily; as if they echo from the cold stone depths of a long forgotten tomb.