Frustration boils over like a pot of pasta left on the burner too long with the cover over it. We don’t know when our number is up, but we should check the egg timer periodically.
Bringing down wrath like rays of sunshine, glimpsed through a break in the clouds. If only this was true for the truly wicked.
The eagle has lost many feathers and its skinned is burned from the fires of ignorance. The eagle has lost many feathers and its feet are shackled with iron forged of lies. The eagle has lost many feathers but it will, given time, learn to fly again.
The choice before you is simple, a bent fork in the road. On the one hand, you can walk away from all you’ve ever known, all of the pearls of knowledge you’ve collected and where around your neck as a precious necklace. Or, you can continue down the path with blinders restricting your vision, showing … Continue reading Split Roads – A Poem
Bridges should lead from one place to another, a new place with promise and possibilities. And if the bridge does not function properly, burn it to the ground and rebuild it.
To be your sledgehammer, knocking away the debris from around your heart, your mind, and your spirit. Might need a shovel too, digging up all the broken earth that has been compacted over the best parts of yourself, the parts you want to show me but have not seen daylight for many years.