Paced by the scurried thoughts apprehending me, I only saw the decay of fallen foliage. I felt my steps squander eyes’ appetite, before it could flee; Without a thought I aimed to reach the bridge.   Fraught with impatience, I did not notice the crackling…

Look up, The sky is not all black, Look close, The moon is missing, But stars still shine.   We may not see the sun yet, Sparkling stars give us hope, Light is out there, Keeping us enlightened, Telling us to wait for sunrise..

I in a separate land called land i feel in love with a beauty whose character is like a odious vermin But she pleads with me not to leave her for she knows how much disrespect i take daily Her lies is enough to put…

This old carved heart sappy, bleeding part from unhealed wounds and unmet needs. Or wretched heart love once anew now grows dull and withered too. The sap, like tears our hopes and dreams turn into fears days turn years house in arrears homeless in cars celing’s…

my sister said she saw the statues dance I told her to leave me alone but the kid kept saying, every night “the statues are dancing!” “no, it’s not the swaying trees!” “no, I’m not dreaming!” “I saw it!” “come watch them with me!” so…

There’s grace at the end of the tunnel Although I travel alone. There’s grace at the end of the tunnel though my path’s not always shown.   I can see with the guiding light He sets before me each day. As I call on Him…

You did a good job to create such depth in your landscapes – I see you have layered some prickly tree, on top of solid hill And delicately dumped a tissue-paper sunset over the top – How many shades of yellow did you use?  …

The world is wafting to the rhythm of dusk Prancing endlessly to the rhyme of time transit Oscillating with regular spin In cyclical turns… Time is no friend… It only sprints with endless whim The world never waits It moves ceaselessly My world is mine…

hour 5 heartwood   heartwood spirals in the centre of my tree relations through drought devastation and diaspora unlike my heart would in isolation from this long-lost heartwood carved into me like scarring rituals with ash from fires where hearts would glow from the sacrifice…