A forehead splits down the center like a lightning-struck tree and swings open like doors on the hinges of each ear. A flock of birds flies like smoke from the opening, and the heart sings praises to their wings.
You are huddled against a flower’s stamen, naked and much too cold to smell the fragrance soon to overtake your world. This void-black sky is the outstretched arms of rose petals, enclosed over you like a domed cocoon, fingers meeting high overhead and interwoven like strands of a grandmother basket. **Gasping Amazement! (sucking in) …haaaaaaa… Read more
I tried to be a saint once; it didn’t work. So now I carry a pocketful of zippers when I walk into town. I lay them on the sidewalk and pull on their sliders, separating the concrete to reveal the sweet mystery of light and sound that bounces between bamboo stalks when played upon by… Read more
This is the faith found folded inside the absence of all things, existing not for god or for man or the angels but for its own Existence. It’s what’s left when loss and confusion have stripped away the nail from where the universe hangs. From and for God Order your copy… Read more
Let me touch my lips to your cheek, so I may swallow your tears. Then, maybe they will enter my bloodstream, and I can finally feel your preciousness with my entire body. From and for God Order your copy today
The gods and saintsnever stopped showering us with flowers. We have just forgottenhow to walk on this earthlightly as if every steppressed into a petalto release its sweet fragrance. From and for God Order your copy today