Write your story, morning glory,
and burst forth to the day
For the one you tell shall be your knell
That lasts beyond the may.
For though tonight you weep your cause
To keep the secret true,
It won’t be long, my dear, be strong
When rue gives birth
To you.


In Memoriam

There are some things that put your day into perspective. Like death, and life. Like getting through life, and truly living. Call it what you will; the call does not cease. It finds you, the homing beacon, quick and relentless, as arrows after their aim. And once you’ve pricked your ears you are never, ever the same. Still, the choice remains: Hamlet’s burning quest/question.

I am glad your words were shared with the world, Abdul-Rahman Kassig.

Prepare the way

A humbling experience:

“Begin from where you are,”

heard the little bird

whispered the star

Henceforth did she begin

To live a life half-interior

Exploring mountain, valley

Naming not one inferior

Until, one day, some day, a hiding place

A cave hid in the Giant’s face

To find her treasure there;

Face to face,

With her star in a trough laid bare.

You, Matter

Not a matter of forgetting

Nor of hiding away, unseen

For you are alive and well,

Part of the parts that cast a spell

A chapter in a book on a shelf

A photo in a frame on the wall

And with eyes of eternity I see

Not a movement from point A to B;

You are a bright,



In my tapestry.