There is a gentle peace that emanates
from the things not wanted but needed
from the fortunes not sought but found.

There is a simplicity that is curled up
in moments not expected but offered
in intimacy not earned but bestowed.

There is a contented joy that gleams
in the bleak places where love grows
in hollow shadows filled with grace.

There is an unpretentious acceptance
of wisdom contained in a conundrum
of the sanctuary crafted in letting go.


The child becomes the man
the man carries the child.

The future becomes the now
the now grips onto yesterday.

The moment grows into a life
the life unravels in a moment.

The end just another beginning
the beginning simply an ending.

The pursuits we sacrifice for
the sacrifices we will pay for.

The pause that creates a bridge
the bridge that forges new ways.


Mirror, mirror on the wall.
Who are you, walking down this hall?
You say it’s you, but all I see is me.
Tell me, what’s real and what’s mimicry.

Was it you I saw a thousand times?
Or simply my reflection, silent mimes?
You say it’s you, but all I see is me.
Escaping shattered glass, I am free.

I see the puppet on a silver string.
You pull the cords and make it sing.
You say it’s me, but all I see is you.
A puppet master without a clue.

Did you see me walk away?
Were you too busy directing a play?
You say it’s me, but all I see is you.
Reflected in the performance you construe.