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.