Of Bread and Wine

What's in a meal,
the breaking
of bread...
More than
subsistence,
more than
existence...
Salvation
in the morsel
shared
A gift of self
carefully prepared
Nurtured connections
bonded
together
in unity
in peace
in Life...

Male Bonding

Joyous laughter
raucous and rich
shared around stories
of experience
and acknowleged foolishness
in youthful mistakes...
Lessons deep
within the telling...
The passing of
messages
between generations
of men
(and men to be...)
Timeless wisdom
buried deep in
oral tradition...
Connections and
nurtured bonds
binding them
forever
together
as men...

WORDSMITH...

Breathe

Breathe

Focus
Find purpose
Creative
Informative
Persuasive Own
Process
Process Decide
Design
Rough Mold
Fire
Hammer Shape
Over

Over
Hammer Shape
Inspect & Check
Turn Around
and Around
Fresh Eyes
What do you think?
What does it need?
Fire
Hammer Shape
Over

Over
Refine....
Redesign....
Smooth edges

Refine....
Hammer Shape
Steam....
Test
Test
Hammer Shape
Sssteam....
Ssssteam....
Polished Gleam
Finished Shine
Breathe
BREATHE
Word...

Momma Goddess: a Redo

She Wolf
Momma Goddess
Hair on fire
Eyes narrowed
Dark as coals
Hissing through gritted teeth
Ears flattened like an angry cat
The earth moved
Dark and ominous
Impending storm
the room filled with her presence....
"I'm gonna make
a man out of you if it kills me"
Pinned against a wall
my brother's burgeoning
manhood melted,
puddled on the floor...
Then the wind shifted
GINGER ANN!
the sound of the last 'n' taking
a distinctively higher pitch....
Now I was in trouble
Should have kept my mouth shut...
I saw my life pass
before my eyes....
Duck and cover
Too late
backhand already in motion....

But when the fury
of the tempest past
and the darkness receded
Brown eyes smiled
warmth and safety and light
Sanctuary in a hostile world...
The laughter, the joy
the acceptance
A belief in a better you..
chameleon molded to her children's needs
children she didn't really understand
but really did...
She was candles
and gentle rains
the smell of dinner in an empty house
Flash Gordon and Godzilla
on a Saturday afternoon...
Larger than life
ever present presence
Ever watching
Even now
Even more
that she's gone
Forever immortal
Forever in us
Goddess ...

Momma....

On Writing....

"There are no truths,

only stories...."

Acoma Saying

Like most things in life, writing is a journey and a process, not only for the writer, but for the reader as well. It is an essential form of communication and expression. On a much deeper level, writing is a means of organizing thought when navigating a would barraged by sensory overloads in all forms; whole and fragmented, relevant and frivolous. By shaping thought, writing offers a way to master life's chaos, and ultimately provide a means of self-discovery and voice. Writing is a very powerful experience that allows us to make sense of our lives and experiences, ultimately providing insight into us all as human beings. It can be quite empowering.

As for me, I am a wordsmith, sometimes poet and forever storyteller. I have always been facinated by people's stories. Glimpses into the lives of another at an given moment in time provide meaning, purpose and ultimately immortality. It is the connections we develop with others, and ultimately within ourselves is where true wealth resides. The written word helps us reach through the temporal veil of time and space and touch the lives of those we may never know...

Write....

Mother Goddess....

Hair on fire...
narrow slitted eyes

dark as coals...
Ears drawn back,

flattened like an angry cat
hissing through gritted teeth...
The earth moved
I was in trouble...

Dark and ominous

like an impending storm.
The room filled with her presence...
GINGER ANN!!!!
The sound of the last 'N' taking
a distinctivly higher pitch...
and my life would pass before my eyes.

But when the fury of the tempest passed
and the darkness receded,
Brown eyes smiled warmth and safety...
Sanctuary in a hostile world
the laughter and joy

in the silly things
Acceptance

and belief in a better you
Warm and nurturing

She was also candles and gentle rains
the smell of dinner in an empty house
She, a fashion queen

her daughter in cowboy boots
A child she didn't understand,
but really did...
Cameleon molded

to her children's needs
Larger than life, ever present,

Ever watching...

Shaper, molder of character

and being
even now, even more,

that she's gone.

I was raised by a Goddess...

Words are Watercolors

Words can be a lot of things, communication, symbolic code for things unseen, or even something to simply tune out. But for me, words are watercolors, delicate dabs on paper, each nuanced in hue and tone; combining the texture of thoughts, feelings, experiences and ideas; different choices, different textures, muted or solid, shadowed or bold in the mind of another. Imagery painted into structured form, watercolors coded into text.... text, like digital rain sequences cascading in our minds create meaning and color our lives. A simple sunrise suddenly becomes a raspberry hued dawn gently caressing the up raised faces of those she embraces... Words, indeed the written word, reaches through the vale of time and space with a magical quality. When skillfully blended, words conjure an alternate view of the mundane, making the ordinary, extra-ordinary...