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I'm constantly moved by words, How intricately they present a push and pull between syllables and emotion. I'm such a lover of literature and stories in their depth, vulnerability and humour. I'm equally in awe of the power they carry in intent and expression. I penned down words, a freedom hymn, telling of a place beyond my fears.  Crossing the peaks and depths in which I fear loss, loving, longing and loneliness. I sit still in the confrontation with these words staring back wondering how freedom could be painted by everything that it's not , even synonymously. I'm reminded of the bliss I felt when I was reassured that I was loved.  And I'm yanked to the pulsing feeling of betrayal almost at the absence of this expression as I wonder if it really was love. I try to tell you of love and I tell of its absence, wallowing in times past and the rising fear of loss with each new hello. Loving can be so scary as you dare to love whole heatedly, putting yourself at an...

 "I’ve heard it said that only the perishable can be beautiful, which is why we are unmoved by artificial flowers. " - Allison Trowbridge - Grinning children filled the classroom and encircled a subject who stood directly over his cake inscribed "Happy birthday", when they erupted into singing in unison, "Happy birthday to you!" , with all the energy they could muster. Treats were had and a few days later with this background their teacher asked, "Why do we celebrate birthdays when we are just one year closer to our grave?" When I first heard it I frowned in realization of the vanity but after living for a bit longer it hit me; a great story always has the ending in mind to fix the plot. ........... "The nations were angry, and your wrath has come. The time has come for judging the dead, and for rewarding your servants the prophets and your people who revere your name, both great and small — and for destroying those who destroy the earth....