Poetry excerpts

The silhouette of these thoughts in my mind:

Blots on a dry, white leaf

Tossing, turning 

Wrestling rest

Sleepless Creativity

Won’t let go

’Til like hungry Jacob,

She is blessed

Much more depends upon—

The blue moments—

Shrouded with insight

Near fields of blessing

Art is the thing that shimmers—

Reflecting light— maintaining 

darkness—that we might fix our 

image and lift our souls. I’ve felt 

it in the deepest pit— far 

from the gleam of stars. And I’ve 

witnessed it on the mountaintop

from the greatest artist of us 

all— In my deepest need it 

transported me to a new and 

wondrous world— And of late, I’ve 

entered in— found the doorway 

through the looking glass— And now 

it asks— not a bit, but all of me