Duty over Love... For love

Mornings are not for answers, but for contemplation and observation.

The first real poem I ever write, will be in skin.

All that is gold does not glitter; all that wanders is not lost.

A Pilot’s Journey Through Slow Sand and Flight

In the quiet weight of being stuck, all roads begin to open.

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When reality fails you, look to your dream last for answers. At least you will be entertained.

Not all prayers are spoken. Some are lived.

Dance, like laughter, needs no translation.

Little memories eddy in the endless flow of the river of time.