I am that scruffy urchin trembling in the winter chill, with hungry eyes as wide as your fancy dinner plate, staring with an empty longing

My bucket had a hole in it. I kept trying to fill it. The more I tried, the more flowed down the drain. It wasn’t for lack of what was nee…

Listen. There it is. The hum of perfect silence at the centre of all that is, and isn’t.

I gaze into the bleakness of the e… engulfed by a sense of futility an… I am like the man who keeps fishin… though he knows the river is spent… I cast my line into the milky pool…

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

Your end? My end? Where the hell’s the middle? You say this. I say that.

Forgiveness? Not on your life. My life was stolen from me. For what?

A subtle movement, a facial expression, a particular posture, the constant hint of danger; as if he were here again,

Ideas and notions, they’re all for the dreamers, worth as much or less than one's considered opinion. You can’t even wrap fish in them.

Water ever seeks it’s perfect peace, from mountain heights to scattered oceans deep. So too our spirit follows

I am awash with tears of mourning for what I thought was dead and go… as though a flood of holy water has broken through the stony dam I contrived to spare this brittle…

The old man, who thinks he’s dying, approached me with these words. I am sorry

Beloved goddess, sweet holy mother of us all, you who beckon me throughout these hectic days

“Don’t say anything!” spoke the shadow in the doorway. I was seven years of age. I lay limp upon the couch, still recovering from