Magic Within

Creativity is a voice that you call to. It is right there, ‘t sings inside of you. You just have to learn how to reach out to it, hold, and pull it through.

Skies

Powerful presence Watching, overseeing us, Enveloping souls,   Weeping. Raging veil Piercing, eerily floating, Blowing, shadowing.

Intricate Destinies

Paths crossed, shifting lights, Leaf swirling by diverts eyes. Another love’s lost.

Leap of Faith 

Senses heightened. Mind aware. I let him get close. So close… It feels like I can’t tell Where he ends and where I start. Thus our story begins. 

Masked

Trapped, hands tied, mouth taped, Slowly I grasp consciousness I open my eyes, Discover a den – Earthen ground, soiled sheets undone On a dirty bed.

The Ant Tavern

Tim was sitting in his favorite coffee place. It was large, crooked, ragged and loud. People were flowing in and out. Sharing stories with one another at the top of their lungs to cover the clamorous sound of music broadcasted on the dozen of old-school speakers, screwed on the walls.

Bright New Skies

Growing up in a rough place, he never thought he would make it. But there he was that day, in this place of all places, with that woman of all women. How gorgeous she looked waiting for him to come and pick her up on her porch.

Transient Affections

He did not know what he wanted. He did not know what to do with his life. He felt like he was constantly watching time flutter and dwindle by, unable to grasp the flow of emotions repeatedly taking over, leaving his heart stranded on the shore.

The Tree House

April 1975 My brother and I had built that tree house next to our house with our uncle six years ago. Since then, on summer days, from dawn to dusk, we would sit there and pretend it was the largest, best-fortified castle in the kingdom

Rushing through the Woods

“The wind was brushing on my face. I was running as fast as I could, exhilarated by the empowering freshness of the air coursing through my lungs. The oxygen it contained was energizing me. I loved this forest, its feel, its sounds, its tastes.

Writer’s Crush

Ever since I have started blogging Reading, following your works, I have felt spikes of admiration Love, sadness, empathy   Creativity is thriving all around me All around you, the lines we share, The work we do, our synergy is The stuff of dreams, the stuff of my dreams.