From Divine Glory

The mighty Seers know
I am the origin
I the sustainer
who knows
Birthless, never-beginning
worlds.

Alone among mortals.
Stainless delusion.

Man, in many natures
Power, unclouded.
Spirit control.
Sorrow, birth, and destruction.
Fears what is fearless.

What unshaken heart contented that hand of the giver and also -

It is by me only
forth from my thoughts
The seven.
At last, I gave birth to the begetters.

Who truly knows me?

Dormant Volcanos

How many more days will I pretend to be ice when I am as volcanic as flesh and blood and lust and tears; and love.  

If I promise everyone none of me, and you all divide the pieces, no one will be tempted to follow me into the woods when I flee from this face I've painted on.  That will be safe.  Safe as stones and rushing waves and cliffs, and drowning properly.

I cannot find the pictures of the stranger in her wedding dress.  But, I found some of you that make me feel like I'm spying on a lover's dream.

With every stab of spoon to frozen vodka rum apple juice something, I'm building up a really quite uniquely clever humor that cloaks the look that was upon my face a moment ago.  But, as I sit here, stand here, lean there, lay there, I cannot help but wonder what it might be like if someone laughed a little with me.