And what shall I give you but my words, my observation through eyes unveiled. My lifes marks in mind and flesh. It is a piece of me, it is an artists gift, as is the song sung low in  trenches, war weary souls huddled awaiting escape here as the world moans and turns we are together, the musician, the poet, the painter. Here with sight and sound and touch the lover, the artist, moves them with his hopeful lullaby.


Written 10/27/2014 for my dear friend Junjie the Artist.

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