where the writers are
In the Quest ...

... For love, / 
Supercilious is tedium, /
For by middle life /
We should become aware /
Title and gold will wait /
An eternity at heaven's gate,  /
For what money secures immortality, /  
Fills in our last chapters /
With a great love or lesser - / 
Albeit a love story nonetheless. /


We start out as children

and end up much like children;

in between it's mostly puff and veneer

with but the patina of our altruism

and humanism remaining,

that we have been able to mount

in our less than ideal lives,

lived out in a less than perfect world.


Therefore, to quest,

To glimpse the colors
Of love in Autumn
And the glimmer of lodestones
Glinted in the midst of Winter
And reflected in your eyes,
As I pass this place
And have this joy to brace me
Amongst shifting sands
And timeless space.