With the ebb and flow of the seasons–of the tides, this great mother, called Earth, swells and groans as, she…
This poem, I wrote years ago, is one of the first ones I recorded. I initially wrote it because I…
I look through the glass, bumping it to test it’s strength, a convex stretches and bends what I assume to…
With the windows open… I listened to the chirp of crickets— the burps of frogs. Felt natures’ winds creep within…
Originating from the ground or from the roots of trees, they come silently, growing overnight with an unbelievable strength. They…
In October, my family and I traveled to Tucson, AZ for a few days of vacation and visiting friends. We…
The angels melt into existence from the dark of the trees, quietly grazing on grass and leaves.They move (wingless) on…
A Poem of Origin. A Poem of Praise I am the dark coffee that brews early in the morning Before…
Every morning of my life I awaken to the sounds and sight of God’s glory, the first thing being the…
Rising long before the sun, I opened the blinds covering the windows; I unlocked the front door and went outside.…