where the writers are


March 28




Delay is when I don’t deal with the tack, don’t deal with the finish nail, land up with a 12 penny in my heel and think about waiting for the railroad spike.  Rebellion is when I run through the razor-wire fence expecting to make a clean get away.  If I don’t socialize my problems when they are puppies all hope is lost when faced with the big dogs.  Exiting out the fifth story window is suicide in fact, but in my thinking I am merely rebelling.  Willingness and cooperation make a dynamic duo; powerful combatants of delay, rebellion, many other joy killing, life stealing foe.  A life led with cooperation and willingness is not necessarily perfection, but it often feels that way. 





Coax loose your tangled frustrations







The future seeps in through the windows
Like the dawn steeling across the sky
Once I inhale it, I am out of doors
Only the lightest of canvas covering me

The opening, flaps in the breeze
The wind of unbidden things echoes
Off the wall of people
Shut out from this adventure

I brace myself for the cutting current
But am greeted by the softest of zephyrs
I duck out
I stand unfettered

Lonely whispers call
But I am isolated
The scene is empty, serene and beautiful
There are other tents

Other seekers standing on other hills
But they see their own futures
From the vantage of their own tents
And thankfully I am left to see mine