Winter’s solsitial winds moan
Commanding their icy brumal stillness
Assaulting through slumbering roots and limbs
Echoing as a threnodical song of death
Nakedly battering upon the equinoctial spheres
Within the frostbitten zephyrus season enshrining
As alabastrine jewels blanket the sovereignty of life
The hibernal glaciers kiss upon the compass of time
Whispering celestial clues to the canescent moons…
This writing was completely serene, and relaxing. The music selection went so well with the entire production. I wish you would place the white jewels in poetry and facebook though. I think it will get far more attention.
Join me as we travel together on the road called "Aging." I will be sharing my personal experiences with you and offer ideas on how we can better navigate the complex byways of our older years. Grief, healing, generations, ancestors, and more.
For a time, I perched myself on a flat rock, comparing my life with the Guyandotte River. Just as its tributaries replenish it daily, changing it in some small—sometimes great—degree, so have the day-to-day occurrences of life changed me. Like the ri
We Will Stone Him is a raw, unfiltered trauma memoir about surviving childhood abuse, emotional manipulation, and the lifelong wounds that follow. This true story marks the beginning of the Rising From The Ashes Trilogy, John Gambacorta and his survi
