This madness is thinner than narrow eyes piercing every joint below the knees. I have said I do. Standing in the aisles of creation. I open my shadows to follow my imagination’s path. I want more than a warm breeze. I want to be the winding winds. I want my writings to reach the sun.
When I am sad or bewildered and naked with pride. I want to remember my pen and each tree that has given their lives. After all, I said I do; not for show, money, followers or fame.
I am committed way down – deep calling out to deep. I am afraid that I shall hold on. I do grow weary, but I must walk on. My ancestors have made the stones for me to follow.The visions are vivid with emeralds-waters and fresh bread. This is my art, I’m married to the pen and the tree.