A man sits in the heat of his home,typing on his computer, trying despearatly to finish his work.
But he has so much trouble concentrating at the moment, as his thoughts are scattered round about him.
Could he forget the green and blue, bright and sparkly eyes of his one and only precious beauty…love?
Does she even know how much she moves and causes sparks to enter his ardent heart so bright?
Even now, wearing her long, brown, hair down, she comes up behind him so softly and so sweet.
Feeling electricity, he turns to her and takes her soft hand in his own hand now.
Great, deep, joy fills his eyes, as he tries to show, that he deeply cares about her life.
Her thoughts ponder his gaze as she contemplates him in awe.
Interiorly she wonders why he is so in awe of her beauty.
Just then, he catches her up in his arms and kisses her so softly.
Keeping her eyes on him, she thinks on his character and she smiles.
Love is a strange and wonderful thing in this very short life.
Moving on through their busy week, they grow so much closer.
None could doubt the depth of their love, because it’s so true.
Oneness is not just a physical sensation.
People are often frustrated with true love,
Questioning whether it really exists.
Rejcection and hurt have blinded us.
Scars cover our bodies and hands.
Tears do dry but leave deep wounds.
Ultimately we heal..
Very slowly…true.
Waitng for hope.



Do you see what eyes cannot see?
Can you see what is beyond the natural?
Are you aware of what is hidden?
Do you see the vision?
What’s the vision?
The Vision?
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army. And they are FREE from materialism.
They are mature …
They are free.
They are wild.
They serve and live for something bigger.
They create.
They laugh…
They make love.
They suffer patiently.
They belong to the nations.
They write their addresses in pencil,
And laugh at their strange existence as sojourners….
They live in honor of His Majesty.
They love the dying and hurting,
And use their wealth for just causes,
And creating beauty.
They are not stingy or selfish.
They are set apart,
And their wisdom is honored by all.
They reach for the stars,
And live in integrity.
Their lives are pure… and dangerous.
They lay down their lives for the cause,
And are heroes.
Their lifestyle outside,
Matches their inner life.
They are history makers,
But they are often hidden.
They are disciplined,
And fearless.
They wait…
They watch…
They listen,
And they take action.
They are attractive both inside and outside.
They are…

An excerpt from a Poem..

Here’s an excerpt from a poem that I wrote for my love. To you, my love…You are the most honorable man and champion I know.

…Your skin is a bit weather-beaten,
But despite the scars,
It is soft and exhilarating.
Your tattoos are fun to trace with a finger,
Just like your scars…
And they all tell stories.

Your chest is the place,
Where my head likes to lie…
And your heartbeat
Is a solace.
Why do I keep talking about your strength?
It is all over you…
Not just physically,
But spiritually too…

Hope you enjoyed that excerpt…

I Am…

I am beautiful and loved
I wonder how many stars make up the universe.
I hear the sound of a unicorn’s hooves galloping on the plains.
I see  Orion in his might.
I want to live a life full of wonder.
I am beautiful and loved.

I pretend that I am an albatross.
I feel the breezes of Lothlórien.
I touch the shores of Valinor.
I worry that my legacy will not be lasting…
I cry tears over the plight of the world.
I am beautiful and loved.

I understand that suffering is a helpful tool.
I say that I am not defeated.
I dream of creating many lasting memories.
I try  to stay focused on the prize.
I hope to meet you someday soon…
I am beautiful and loved.

Grandma’s Hands

How I remember the way that your hands would knit,
And how they worked hard to provide for your family.
I remember how you raised your children,
And invited them to participate with you in the Mystery…
I remember your kindness,
And the way your eyes smiled.
I rmemeber your dedication,
Your service,
And the way that you cared about everyone.
I remember you hugs,
But most of all…
I remember your beautiful heart.


Beauty in the Ugly

This word alone makes many people cringe and shrink back…
It’s often known as …
The scraping away of imperfections,
Or the refinement of the soul.
Most people run from it like the plague,
And groan and moan about it while in the trial.
Others see it as an opportunity,
To be cultivated and grow into wise people.
Have you seen an overcomer?
One who has gone through many trials with joy?
Where does it come from?
How do they suffer sickness, loss, and grief with hope?
There is beauty in the ugly,
And diamonds are formed in the pressure.
Butterflies emerge through a struggle,
And athletic training offers a great reward.
Nobody enjoys exertion and exhaustion at first,
But in light of a great prize,
All the suffering is worth it.
No beautiful thing comes into being without a mess…
Nothing that is worthwhile,
Comes without pain.
Instead of numbing the pain,
Allow it to change and grow you.
Love too grows with time,
Through uncomfortable struggles,
Conflict and forgiveness.
A full life is one of suffering,
And one of deep joy.
There is more depth to this story,
both interior and exterior…
We live, we die,
We see reality…
Rescue is available,
and the Rescuer is coming.
Suffering’s reward is worth it,
And so are vulnerability and trust…
Would you prefer to be comfortable,
Or live life to the fullest?