From the archives, written in 2004
I stare through frosted pane
while winter cold memories disturb
the precious, present moment;
I am brooding on a life unwound
that intensifies inward sensation and sentiment
and I burst into flames of feeling
then wisp and spiral like a smoky ghost.
I question and defy the demon doubt,
wrestle and wrench my will to love
from the dark void of fear.
I hear the small voice that whispers
persistently and quietly
the words of the Goddess Mother;
Daughter, you are beloved.
Be at peace.