Profit

And your body is the harp of your soul,

And it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds.

And the wind and pine combine to whistle a melody, but what of that melody if there were no ear to hear ?

and what is the mind, but the engineer of the body’s will

The above quote: Khalil Gibran from The Prophet pg. 81

Hope At Least

As you sit there watching the homeless man with carpet padding scarfed around his neck draping down to his feet flip through a magazine he dug out of a trash can, leaning against the trash can, legs crossed, you think: at least there’s always hope. . .

Passages to Hades

In the silence between words is the yawning gap of my loneliness and beyond this seemingly endless abyss the nation-state borderline rages like singed leafy edges holding on hard to what use to be