Contentment Simple desires Outlaying animation in life moving testimonies no wonder to ponder immensely shaping future from today undertaking of spirit movement soul releasing a wonder so imminent 6:30 Pm 13/06/2015 © ROY MARK AZANZA CORRALES ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

So Dance Virginia Carraway Stark Dance with me Dear heart The night is still young It’s not even Noon yet The clouds are breaking With every cheer Of bird song The puddles don’t splash Above our ankles So dance with me And sing Because the…

Is it the fear and fury The rage roiling within. Is it the judgment with no jury, Or the slander of sin.   What causes these fitful nights Fear making me see red? I crave blood fights And it’s nothing that’s been said.   So…

It didn’t show the future Only present was cherished, My thoughts went green, All the memories when seen,   faces full of affection, Smile pure with courage, though some things tasted bitter, But happiness still litter   The train took me to soul, Taught me…

I’m not as good as I want to be, not as good as I thought. I’m all twisted up in coils machinery, and knots— chained to a speeding clock.

Plant your feet. Gauge the distance. Ready your line and begin to whirl. Cast!   That look of pure determination shall haunt fish all their meager lives.

It’s dark And though the sounds are dense, I hear so clearly It’s cold And though I can hardly move, my mind moves freely It’s a world away from what I’ve ever known And submerged inside this world I’m all alone And you cannot hear…

I plundered through the weedy brush for endless hours. In search of food, In search of life. I was left with no choice, but to go fishing. Fishing for food, Fishing for life. Thus I made a makeshift pole with swampy reeds and flimsy, torn…

I am hungry and the salmon are plentiful. Let me wake from my slumber and lumber to the edge of this precipice in the river and stand my brown bulky body on this slippery boulder while the stream swirls around my paws. Salmon are leaping…

Fishing with my Father, 1970 He’d have a Pall Mall hanging loosely from his lips, his eyes squinted tight behind sunglasses. That habit he had of moving his head to the left to shake back the sun-bleached hair that fell from a side-ways part. Old…