There is a tread that passes                               invisibly                                                           through[…]

In a distant time when people still believed, in an ancient place where always nature thrived, there lived a wondrous wizard often who would weave the Forces of the Four and against evil he strived. And long night after night against the phasing moon He would be seen conjuring a[…]

 Looking back…     Looking back…   I see the still warm warnings     crying out…       dying out. Remembering always    the harsh hapless moments      the heartache that knew  no mercy.  Looking ahead…    Looking ahead…   I hear the crisp cold sunrise       pouring in…        roaring in. Anticipating ever  the growing glowing joyfulness   the[…]

I don’t much use mirrors. I never did. When I was very young I did, to a normal amount, I was in theater and loved acting so I looked at myself to do my make-up for shows. Even that was not often: dress rehearsal and the one, two or three[…]

lines waiting outside the center lines nervously waiting to enter lines in old faces inside and out lines in young faces they can’t figure out lines of many who just cannot wait anymore lines of a few who got there from some war lines of some who suffer from somebody’s[…]

“…he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted…” Luke 4:18 lost in a sea of heartache chronic tears within knitted brow without assessing the horizon is fruitless revisiting the past is painful tension tears at the soul foolishness florishes focus is lost completely yet the healing is promised but never[…]

standing silent witness like this tree to the endless rape of our sky our lands and seas but I won’t stay silent I will speak out I will cry out over the scream of the bulldozer over the howl of the chain saw over the deafening silence of the impotent[…]

by J. P. Gallagher © 2000 in the distance peeking over the horizon far off mountains stand and stare back at me they defy the curve of the earth whisper from behind me and all around me secrets of the surface secrets of the center and only the honesty of[…]

I saw you there in Paris in the bistros on All Souls Day with all the other sons sitting in the afternoon sun beside their mothers having a holiday cafe noir with their cher mama and I saw you sitting there beside me too. I saw you there in Paris[…]

Down in the hollow next to the flowing water amid the stand of grey birches we spoke of last hurrahs and balances of excess. The soil so thick and dark could grow anything nourish and bring any possibility to fruition but sometimes the forces raise the river and wash away[…]