Over the snow, there rides a sleigh. Clop, clop is the rhythm of the horse hooves. Bells jingle, jingle around the horse’s neck. Fog creeps upon the snow. The rumble, grumble sound of the horse breaks upon a quiet scene. The horse stops in front of a chapel. But no one gets out of the sleigh. Now one tells the horse to stay, or leave. So he trots away, leaving nothing but a trail in the snow.
Written in 1983. The wooden chips float to the floor at each stroke of the blade. The gnarled, old hands shape the stick of wood with an expertise only acquired with time. The metamorphosis of the wood is slow and subtle. but as time progresses a figure seems to come alive. A figure of an…
Written in 1983. Life is: lessons to be learned dreams to be realized adventures to be experienced. The reason is: getting to know experiencing the new realizing the truth. I want to: learn know experience realize. I want, desire, need to grow.
Written Feb. 7, 1983. I stay inside the dark and weary castle keep. It is lonely. I know loneliness. She is my friend. Outside is cold. There are many vicious things out there. The many pronged whip that beats on you until you’re a bloody pulp. The razor that slices souls. The knife that creeps…
One of my goals for this year is to get better at relationships. Since I kind of failed in my marriage, my goal is to get it right next time. One of the pieces of advice I’ve been following is this: To attract your soul mate, you must feel that your soul mate is already…
Written in 1983. I see an image made of dust. This is something I cannot trust. But what of broadswords that are thrust? Soon their valor turns to rust.
Written in 1983. You see an apple. I see knowledge of a million years. You see a circle. I see life, death and rebirth. Why do two people see so differently? What makes one person see surface, while another sees depth? May this be a reason for war? Which insight is right? No one can…