I wrote this for the "Belt and Beyond" Magazine.
Where homes are houses And shoes are anchors, Bound to the earth that Sings out of tune, The flight of music is a wounded b…
The black sun stripped naked of its flamboyant costume with its yellow glowing that paraded across the firmament and marched to the drums of the da…
Attitude, those crossroads in the… Whether to keep on pushing ahead, To forget about the other team’s b… To keep the faith in one’s self, To honor the Holy Spirit’s presen…
Of snowflakes and their evolution, Descending from the skyward ocean, Through changing skies of hot and… An intrepid journey so determined… Molded and shaped from sky like va…
Like a recipe that requires certain ingredients, so does life in its understanding. In order to feel the wholeness, one must be able to feel the sum of its parts. Sorrow has as much s...
Tempest furor and skies bleeding o… Mother Nature concocting rebellio… Black clouds touching jagged mount… The angry skies at war as the thun… Sermons on the mount as nature cur…
From that mysterious island in the… far beyond my eyes and ears and ar… wreathed in a fragrant mist of pur… with a beating heart and saintly m… of an ancient language from a diff…
Shivering words and arctic cold Tedious stories ever growing old Nights of romance passing by Nigh without words or a starlit sk… Rainbows linger without being seen
A symphonic poem beckoned to me through the quiet air, and like a distant lover, opened the door to my heart with its enchanting melodies. The prelude spread its warmth over me with it...
Knowledge patiently waits At the apotheosis of revelations, To lend its mind and then send us Further along the path of the soul… Infinite secrets lie silently in o…
Serenade to the Sun An ode to the phantom mountains Peaking out through nocturnal curt… The break of day for cellos lament… As darkness fades to night owls re…
One of Monteverdi’s most famous Operas, Orfeo, was performed last night at the Theater in London. It was a beautiful day yesterday. The sun finally made its grand appearance after man...
A Melancholy Brook Poor little brook, why are you cry… You’re so calm and peaceful in you… While raging rivers move so swift No time to float about and drift
Muhammad was believed to have been born in 620 A.D. in Mecca into the dominant tribe called Koreish. He developed a distaste for the idolatry of the Bedouin. He loved to wander throu...
Life is a turbulence within the ca… a sea divided, a one sided comfort, a one sided trial, a philosophy to combine the two,