A collection of prose, poems and passing thoughts over the years.


Of Prose

We fear and so we follow
   a path never meant to heal us,
   to be witnessed by the sightless
  who will never see of know our true value
We yearn for an acceptance
   we, ourselves can only give.
We are the healers
  we are looking for.
Ancestors reborn;
  so fear not the road that is ours to tread.
It lies eastward toward the rising sun,
   a path to be cut with machetes through
   the truthless images we strive to resmeble.
We are creation's gift and we shall
   unfearingly create the path
      we will call our own.