I heard a damsel with her lute reclaim the lost song of the soul; into the wind she poured each note, each in pursuit and fleet pursuit
There comes a time when one feels like throwing off the chains of civilization and returning to the simpler and friendlier past. The comfortable sofa loses its appeal. Processed foods no longer satisfy. The office worker stares past his computer screen, controlled by an urge to unleash himself into the pathless woods, the lands empty …
It is the world, tonight, that I let go, when thoughts too far from words burn on my tongue, and rest’s ache rests upon me here, among the sundered stars that I shall never know.
Have you heard about the shooting of the Mona Lisa? The world’s most famous painting was on display at its home—the Louvre—where as usual, thousands of people flocked to Paris to see it. The museum usually kept the Mona Lisa behind bulletproof glass, thinking to keep her safe from sabotage.
A year ago, I attended a writers’ conference in Washington, DC, with the Hedge Apple Magazine, which I was editing at the time. The cost of the conference covered a free subscription to a magazine of my choice, and I selected American Short Fiction, since I wanted to be more familiar with the fiction that …
One evening bright with blazing cloud I climbed a rocky crest, and saw the Phoenix tall and proud building up his nest.
O daughter of the gently valleyed hills, where like a child I lie against your breast, my cares all fled into the utter west, you give the dew of Hermon for my ills, that from your heart distills.
Acts 16:16-17 For seven years I walked with demon guides, divining deathless words for mortal men; tales of dark wisdom they gave me besides, draining my soul and filling it again