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

Millions cheer the warriorspilling blood across the ringwhile the one who stands for peaceis ridiculed and shamed.

The books are also a part of what I call the great continuum of spiritual literary dialogue that I feel has been in progress since human beings

From her gospel-singing mother Cissy Houston, her legendary pop-diva cousin Dionne Warwick, and her Queen of Soul godmother Aretha Franklin

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.

Well, then,” he said. “Let’s do it.” “What?” Vin asked. “Save the world.” Elend said. “Stop the ash.

All right,” Spook said. He reached to the ground, scooping up a pile of ash. “Let’s just rub this into your clothing and on your face….” Breeze froze. “I’ll meet you back ath the lair,” he finally said.

We flew over to England by the same route Churchill took. It was easy. All we had to do was follow the cigar ashes.

The Passion of the Christ opened up on Ash Wednesday, had a Good Friday.

When it’s time to shuffle off this mortal coil, you leave your ashes to be composted.

When passion is mutual, there is always the danger of the fire burning to ashes.

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.