Sky and Firewood

We look up the sky see it high from where we stoodbut we live and die under that sky trying to be understood.We are prisoners of our own device barred behind shouldforgetting that how to live resides in I did the best I could.

the ugly writers

The first of my poems

It’s not difficult to hunt down facts and uncover the truth where it comes from someone not promoting shame but is only trying to regain their identity. This is a burden without purpose, bearing it solely, because it was their soul, and they shared. I still have my voice.

Power

I choose to live each day to fullest, to seek out others who choose to do the same and share my faith. That is where my true inner strength is found. A confidence in what I hope for, yet can not see.