Kaleidoscope: We All Derive From the Same Tribe. {poetry}
Day by day, I aspire to follow my own inner whisper, reminding me that no one set of beliefs fits all... how we are a diverse kaleidoscope.
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Rebelle Society
Time to Face Death Again: A Midfall Midnight’s Chronicle.
I move within the tales and they move with me. I feel the pulse of time. I will laugh a thousand years with the failed tries of my enemies.
Cloak: Receive Each Other With Compassion. {poetry}
But, in nights when sheets lie cold, and only ghosts trace my skin, she is the comforting cloak. Joining woven sisters through time.
Still Standing: NYC Skyline and Remembering 9/11.
Still standing like Rocky after all his fights -- battered, bruised, but all heart. Because underneath the steel and concrete, it’s a softy.
Prelapsarian Paradise: Nature Will Triumph.
In this age, we know that our interaction with nature can create harm, but that harm can be ameliorated with remedial action.
Escape by Sea: Shape of Salvation in Watercolor Tones.
I imagined people escaping by sea, from disease and geological cataclysm, and thought of what it must be like to have made it onto a boat.
Lines in the Sand: A Goddess Divided.
So close to the altar of Aphrodite Urania, a goddess cleansed of her Eastern sensuality by the Greek patriarchal lens, afraid of her energy.
Thanks, but I’m Not Coming to Your BBQ!
If I am in a James Aspey kind of mood, I will politely decline the invitation to your BBQ party and we will catch up another day.
Six Months to Numb Your Senses. {poetry}
It wasn’t easy, but six months on, I can safely say that I can now think of my father without the tears rolling uncontrollably.
Patterns That Weave Us Together During Holy Wars.
If we were to focus on the minutia to understand, which I often do, we might see more human-sized patterns in all the wreckage, the carnage.