Energy Flows (a poem)

I could never touch the sky
Or lasso down the moon
The stars are far too high
But with them I commune
I can’t reach with my hands
And pull them down to me
So, I swallow astral energy
Spit it out into the sea

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Garden of Night (a prose poem)

I. A Dark Field

There is a field shrouded in darkness. You’ve been there before, though you only vaguely remember it. Maybe you saw it in a dream, but maybe, you were there in waking hours, but it’s buried deep inside your mind.

The field is like this: Cold, completely dark; the only sound is a groaning wind. There’s no moon in the sky, nor can you see where the sky and horizon meet because it’s as if you were blind. Yet, a fire burns far off in the distance, and you smell sulfur. The wind kicks ashes in your frost-bitten face.

You’ve been here before, you know it.

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Vibrant-Colored Ashes (a poem)

Watch time move in a circle
Our concept is broken
Caught in linear perceptions
We believe death is deception

But when the lightning flashes
Our mere mortality crashes
Into storm clouds and burns
Into vibrant-colored ashes

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The Life of a Shaman (flash fiction)

Here’s a piece of fantasy flash fiction about a young boy, a shaman, and destiny. It’s about 740 words and has an estimated reading time of 3 minutes. Let me know what you think!

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Where Does the Eternal Lie? (a poem)

Where does the eternal lie?
Some things can’t be seen with the eyes,
Like infinite doom-loops in my mind
And the everlasting disguise of
Angels and demons

The deity is malicious; he crushes me
Between endless surging waves
On undying shores of violence;
Where does the eternal lie?

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Door to the Subconscious (a haibun)

The radiant room inside your mind – lit with bright pinks, purples, and blues. Deep inside the dream world, we’ve accessed your subconscious. Down the narrow halls, leading to forbidden desires. What lies beyond the door?

Beyond the bright door
Lies memories that make you
And also break you

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A Visit from the Angel (a poem)

The angel visits me.

Shocking sound, vast colors, she’s suffused in light. A messenger, her words deeply stirring. Her face purest yellow, shining,

smiling, brings ease, a luminosity

She says everything
Will be all right,
All’s well, all shall be well,
All manner of things
Shall forever be well,

Like Julian said
Centuries ago

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A Saint for Our Times (graphic art)

This is a picture I took from Wikimedia Commons of a statue of Julian of Norwich, an English anchoress from medieval times who is regarded as an important Christian mystic. Julian (1343-after 1416) wrote Revelations of Divine Love after seeing visions (or “shewings“) of the Passion of Christ. She was on her deathbed at the time of the visions, but she recovered and wrote about the visions sometime later.

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