Edge of the Infinite

We go down to the ocean’s edge each evening,and sometimes I am so tired my inner filters slip,and I can see beneath the waves.I don’t mean this metaphorically.I mean I can quite literally see—the mounding lava rocks, the mountains of structures,cliffs rising just...

Question for the Ages

Some days I look aroundat this exquisitely unique planet—this shimmering blue bead suspended inwhat so many dismiss as “outer space,”as if the cosmos were nothingness—and I wonder how it came to be overrunby control freaks bent on damagingeveryone (fellow humans,...

Instinctual

Daily writing promptDo you trust your instincts?View all responses Instinct is older than language—a pulse beneath thought,a knowing shared with every creaturethat breathes in rhythm with the Earth. Yet somehow we,the ones who call ourselves intelligent,forget to...

Coming Home

Coming home may be the first truth we recognizewithout words—feet sensing receptive ground, comfortrising from the soil as breath deepens and expands.We are no different from the dog with its wet muzzlelifted to the wind, savoring with senses we still possessbut long...