“Like white lace crumbled in night’s hand,” a poem by Stephen Fuller
Like white lace crumbled in night’s hand The snow fell to earth, a warehouse For memories each toile and cordonnet Wove between picots melting away into…
Like white lace crumbled in night’s hand The snow fell to earth, a warehouse For memories each toile and cordonnet Wove between picots melting away into…
How do we capture the suite of life:Blue eyes, brown eyes, these eyesSee what the cake tastes, savorEach layer with me, what comes.So, yes, it’s hard.…
“Between the stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and…
Over the last six months, nightmares have played an essential role in my phycological and emotional development. My subconscious mind has been actively punching through the…