A Selection from Seasons of Contemplation: A Book of Midnight Meditations Life doesn’t have a singular purpose and yet we try to pigeonhole this infinite gift by searching for a single meaning behind our existence. We hunger for meaning the way a starving man...
A selection from In the Hands of the Immortal Weaver: Poems of Sacredness and Belonging You must be a child to find the hiding places where the unseen ones dwell just beyond the veil. The logic of the adult cannot think beyond the four walls, —blind to the...
