This is a poem about intergenerational memories; ones so powerful they are passed down through the DNA.
Only seconds before he ripped the larynx straight out of my neck, I had what I can only describe as a miraculous life-saving revelation.
And as we dared to be human they moved behind us and began to blow again, propelling us to places our natural strengths could never carry us.
There is light from overhead. And there is full-moon light that leaks through your walls. Light that seeps through...
Fear/Loss/Death/Prayer/Faith/Love. This is a small poem about big things.
I want to pass along some answers to what I believe are a few of life’s most pressing questions. I hope they help make your life better than it already is.
We are all products of the triumphs and foibles of our parents. Perhaps one difference is that while some of us try our hardest to forget, others of us work just as hard to keep our memories alive.
Everyone's heard about the assumed advantages of living a religious lifestyle. Following my native contrarian tendencies, this piece is a reflection on the pitfalls of being a "religious" person.
How passing along something as simple as a song —with love and intention— can change a life forever.
Noah’s brother and son in law each take one of Noah’s arms. If they were to let go even for a moment, he would fall into the open grave from sheer anguish.
As the first scoop of dirt hits his son’s casket, Noah drops to his knees and he moans, almost as a whisper —or an afterthought. The sound that passes from his lips is unearthly.
