When the Earth was young
and we were old.
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It's always getting late.
When I am not writing this is what I do.
"In the present we are always in memory." - Trish Keenan
It's always getting late.
Introduction
This blog is a virtual notebook of writing that I maintain as often as I can. Poems, stray lines, random observations, all co-exist here. Revisions occur as needed/deemed fit.
See/Hear
A Chronological Archive of Joy and Heartache most often referred to as LIFE
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2017
(526)
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December
(50)
- From Here
- Love is a shadow
- Simple Joys
- Junk
- Morning 12/29/17
- Morning 12/28/17
- The Drive
- Morning 12/27/17
- Contemplation / Morning 12/26/17
- Here We are free Together
- A Christmas Message
- When the Earth was young and we were old.
- Hear and Understand
- Morning 12/23/17
- Creation and Healing
- Beautiful Gina
- Morning 12/21/17
- morning 12/20/17
- that which feeds
- Will love become the dawn?
- We must learn to do what is right by doing what is...
- words
- Ocean
- Questions
- beach dream
- Vessel
- The Expected
- Morning 12/16/17
- Morning 12/15/17
- Wind and Sand
- Prophet
- pendulum
- morning 12/13/17
- Morning 12/12/17 / 35th Anniversary
- To walk the path is to live the path.
- Unseen Landscape
- Try Again
- This Moment Is Now
- The Name the Wind Calls Itself
- Morning 12/9/17
- I wake and I dream
- moment
- Caught Thinking
- That Which Longs to Be Born
- Morning 12/5/17
- Morning 12/4/17
- Morning 12/3/17
- The Invisible World
- Beautiful Sky
- Two Halves
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December
(50)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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