“A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew.”

Rainbows introduce us to reflections of different beautiful possibilities so we never forget that pain and grief are not the final options in life.

We are living in an era in which billions of people are grappling to promote communication, tolerance, and understanding over the more destructive forces of war

Change is one of the scariest things in the world and yet it is also one of those variables of human existence that no one can avoid.

Still willing to invest in art and poetry’s own uniquely explosive contributions to the great, and small, dramas of human history.

Love as a concrete foundation for an authentically functional civilization requires the around-the-clock labors of forgiveness. Without it, Love fails

Without the relief of compassion, the voice of an exceptional poet producing exceptional work is not something the world can afford to dismiss.

Love taught me to die with dignity that I might come forth anew in splendor. Born once of flesh, then again of fire

September 11, 2001: Citizens of the U.S., besieged by terror’s sting, rose up, weeping glory, as if on eagles’ wings.–from the poem Angel of Remembrance: Candles for September 11, 2001

A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.

Made applicable to the present, and where visions shape the present into extraordinary possibilities for the future.

Oh what a wonderful soul so bright inside you. Got power to heal the sun’s broken heart, power to restore the moon’s vision too.

Where humanity sowed faith, hope, and unity, joy’s garden blossomed.

Now come the whispers bearing bouquets of moonbeams and sunlight tremblings.

Than they are to hearing anything about acts of love or grace.

In an age when nations and individuals routinely exchange murder for murder

This world’s anguish is no different from the love we insist on holding back.

I have learned that you’re not perfect, and that sometimes the one you love can burn you. But it’s just the fool that’s looking backwards: a bitter heart turns the love we made to ashes.

Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.

My pen is alight and my body aflame. Until both burn down to ash, my love and my hate will remain here in the world.

I had learned one of the bitter lessons of life: never try to regain the past, the fire will have become ashes.

Leaders should lead as far as they can and then vanish. Their ashes should not choke the fire they have lit.

Adjusting to Beau being a caveman over a girl had been almost as hard as seeing him with Ash. Beau didn’t do jealous, not until Ashton had become his. Now he was a freaking lunatic.

Warriors have emerged from the ashes of trials and sacrifices.

We rise from ashes; too damaged to be touched. yet, strong enough to rebuild kingdoms.