I’ve candidly admitted that language (currently) is an inadequate medium for conveying any real sense of fluidity of a life… a gleeful snowflake in a blizzard,

I am, which is, at these moments, experiencing itself and expressing itself in ink.

I am not disassociating from myself as I write,

as I witness myself writing,

and watch the shadows of my pen and hand race before me in the light I shine.

I am not chasing the shadows.

I do not fear them.

There’s nothing in them that isn’t coming into light.

And, wouldn’t it be so that I always have seen things clearer when

I stay in the light.

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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.

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