Side dishes of creative bursts to whet your muse.
White-hot in its existence. Like a vision of the sun through haze.
Its layers unfold before me, its ripples tear away at my being.
Beneath all the layers of wordless wonder there is a truth, hidden deeply. It is not restricted by concrete substance,
or withheld by restraints of leather and lock. It is delicate and fragile,
it is real.
The walls of concrete which have held it hostage for decades are mirages of twisted perceptions and emotionally driven lies.
Repetition chipping away at security and surreptitiously burying
the shaking voice.
Let the waves crash against the cinder blocks. Watch the concrete crumble.
Reach into the depths of the darkness, the mountains of blackened chaos and lift up your truth to the wind.
Set it free.
Set it free and recreate confidence.
Shatter the silence and let its shards blow in the wind like glitter
from the palms of a child.