I have sometimes pictured, for you dear reader,
the image of these words, these postings, this modest effort…

as a spreading of seeds of a sorts.

The intention of the imagined dispersal was not to convey randomness or carelessness or anything cavalier or condescending. Now, that’s not what I was attempting to communicate.

I was letting go of control.

What’s in me is flowing
pouring – streaming –
out of the bag of my years of sincerely seeking
and a small portion has found these pages and these words.

I have no idea if this is true, but it feels totally loving.

I’m not in love with writing or words.

I love one or some of the words I’ve used, coming from a loving search for how better to love all, might.

However, I do believe that words can unlock our locked-ness,
and that’s a mystery,
and I love that, too.

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    Disclaimer: Poetic license is at work both here and in my books. Any errors or anomalies are through no fault of my editor. These were left deliberately at my expressed intention to clearly indicate that goodness does not require perfection.

    "Having read only the first few pages, I had a feeling of warmth and familiarity which spurred me on to continue reading page after page."

    - Amazon Reviewer