“I have seen men, choose violence time after time. And in turn, I have seen violence choose them.”

You were fully clothed in lies, I was naked in truth. Still, when morning came It was I who survived the cold.

There is no such thing as ‘little’ acts of kindness. Every kind act, is grand powerful. Meant to take up space.

‘Why are we here?’ I inquired of my body, spirit, and soul. ‘Here to do whatever feels good.’ Said the first. ‘Here to do what feels good.’ Said the second. ‘Here to choose.’ Said the third. ‘Between both.’

“No” is such a controversial word. Clear, resounding when uttered by men. By women, Low, muffled. Sounds like “yes.”

To know more, I must first admit that I know nothing. Only on a blank page, can words be written.

Ran out of time, before we even began. How long will the road not taken be starved of footprints?

I no longer ask humans, for a definition of love. For, they tend to force on her, the traits of those who have either treated them well or not at all.

Both strong and weak may survive; if neither takes too seriously, the titles of ‘strong’ and ‘weak’.

A natural law; ‘forgive them or become them.’ slowly, unnoticeably, surely.

A lot of my mistakes, are birthed by curiosity. Like a child, drawn to fire; I came for the light and found pain instead.

Ears quick to listen. Lips, slow to speak. I take, so that I may give.

I used to envy the sun, for having seen it all. I was wrong. Left with nothing to see, how bored she must be.

Doubts are powerful. They, not only demand we look again, they tell us what to see.

Patience is not the ability to wait. It is, how we wait; an attitude so unruffled, that none can tell if we’re waiting or not.

Doing good and being good; are two different things. The first is a shirt we put on, take off. The latter is our skin.

Spiritual or religious. Which will you be? Society, asks of me. Inscribe my name on the list. I said, Of which has more compassion in it.

The trouble with most of us is that we would rather be ruined by praise than saved by criticism.

Our insatiable drive to rummage deep beneath the surface of the earth is a willful expansion of our dysfunctional civilization into Nature.

No matter where your interest lies, you will not be able to accomplish anything unless you bring your deepest devotion to it.

Just because we feel offended doesn’t mean we must be offended. Feelings are indicators not dictators.

Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.

Even when we find not what we seek, we find something as well worth seeking as what we missed.

Art is a marriage of the conscious and the unconscious.

A flute with no holes is not a flute.