When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again

“…Let love and friendship on that day,Hurrah, hurrah!Their choicest pleasures then display,Hurrah, hurrah!And let each one perform some part,To fill with joy the warrior’s heart,And we’ll all feel gayWhen Johnny comes marching home.” –Patrick Gilmore Reminiscing the sweltering days of … Continue reading

Party Isn’t Over Yet.

Party Isn’t Over Yet.

Raised on love, perse flowers headsThriving in abundance, a single blade in lush greenswardLasting beyond the frost, the courageous onesdashing its way in, the surprisingly obvious Not knowing what’s ahead, all that’s avoidedAll that we have, the presentSomething lost in … Continue reading

Where Rivers Meet.

Where Rivers Meet.

All the water below me came from above. All the clouds living in the mountains gave it to the rivers, who gave it to the sea, which was their dying. -David Whyte

Chromatic Shifts

Chromatic Shifts

Connected to the wild, an intimate and raw me.Taunted, manipulated, abandoned, discarded no more.Out of red-hot ashes, my worthiness.A journey of the heart, no better time than now to leap and bound.Bringing me out of the dark, tones of a … Continue reading

Riddle Me This.

Riddle Me This.

I don’t have it all figured out; but I do know the next best step. I bet through the dense thicket beyond the path, some tiny creatures bound along from spongy mushroom top to spongy mushroom top with it all … Continue reading

Pathway Chat

Pathway Chat

My heart: You won’t be able to escape from me, you might as well hear me out. My Mind: Okay how long will it take? I found this secret path. My heart: I promise I won’t go anywhere.

Promising Budding Branches

Promising Budding Branches

On top of the world and making it a noble ambition; making it bigger every day after. Coming out of a wintery dormancy and feeling edgy. A whole lot of commotion happening in my head on the ascent, things start … Continue reading

Lofty Ventures in the Wounds of my Shadows

Lofty Ventures in the Wounds of my Shadows

When your heart is left with the remnants, still smoldering from a ravaged battlefield, a hill or two become more than a routine, they become a heraldic urgency of sorts. Just another dizzying, hazy early morning acclivous brisk treading, what … Continue reading

No Dilly-Dallying on Your Way to Grandmas

Guess she’s got this area covered alright. She must have been a Sikh guru from Punjab, or a Suri of Ethiopia or stick fighting among the Guanches of the Canary Islands in her past lives. I looked back and without … Continue reading