Truth! My CT scan said “Patient appears tilted.” Lol. I was greatly amysed. So it’s official now. I am tilted lol

“Tilted” it said,
“Patient appears tilted,”
So now it’s official,
I’m tilted,
The whole world is tilted,
Out of control,
When will the spinning stop?
In this
Vortex of fear,
Nothing seems right,
All controls gone,
Powerless I wail,
“Please put me right,
I’m tilted.”

BY THE RIVER – a rondeau

By the river the willow stood
Weeping for all that was lost that was good
Bowed down with grief sore tears did fall
How could she bear this bitter gall
It seemed her name was written in blood

Her life was gone however could
She carry now her cross of wood
With every step she took a fall
By the river

But light would come, the green tree would
Bear again the bright Spring’s bud
Hear once more the sweet birds call
Hope spread its strong wings over all
There never would be old deadwood
By the river


Never ending
The path that we tread
Beset with perils,
Darkest nights
We lose our bearings,
Stretch out our hands,
Feel our way,
Terror strikes us,
In fear we fall,
But there on the ground we find
Bright gems,
Again we rise,
Like gold,
In the fires of life


Hunched low,
In rhythmic sway,
Cradles the child
Who danced
In celebration fields
Of gold.

Soft days
In gentle sand
Lapped body’s shore,
While sunny stories
In darkening crook
Of summer’s arm.
A woman moans
Her last goodbye
To childhood’s startled innocence
Then slowly turns,
In ever widening circling dance
To greet
New sunlight’s
Golden dawn


Just wanting to say that I would live to join in with all the communities of writers here on WordPress, but am unable to do so because of my blindness. I am so glad that,people still come to read some of my stuff. But I feel unable to be part of the various fommunities her, sadly. Everyonemis welcome here, to my site, and even though I sometimes write from amparticular fauth angle, no one has to believe as I do. We are human beings, and I write from anhuman angle. Sometimes I have fauth, sometimes my faith flounders becayse of my phtsucal struggles. But ut us all here, in my writing. Thankyou so much to thosenofnyou who come here. I wish I could,pay you all a visit back. I will try!


I “saw” you sitting in your chair
Your face was grey, your breathing faint
You whimpered as I stroked your hair
I “saw” you sitting in your chair
Time stopped as I remembered bare
Days when in my own torment
I “saw” you sitting in your chair
Your face was grey your breathing faint


I look and see the Church clock stopped
And wonder if my time will end
How many years from my life are lopped
I look and see the Church clock stopped
How many aeons has it dropped
How many lives have had to bend
I look and see the Church clock stopped
And wonder if my time will end


Carry me
I cannot float
The waters pull me in
Deep calls to deep
I am out of my depths
For so long I swam
Against the tide
My arms flailing
Taking in water
Oh how I congratulated myself
But it was expected of me
Walking on water should be easy
Even the raging foam
But you never tried it
You never had to
Oh I did quite well you know
But now
I beg you
Carry me
I’m tired


Do I have a soul left at all?
Numb, I grieve
The loss of my soul
I see a shadow on the ground
Is it mine?
Is it my soul
Flattened crushed
Is it my soul?
I throw myself on the ground
Covering the shadow
With the weight of my body I hold it down
Claw at the ground
Till blood flows
“Where is my soul?”
“Is THIS my soul?”
Wailing, I lament
“What did you do to my soul?”
My cry rises to heaven
I stroke, caress,
love the shadow on the ground
“Oh, is it mine?
Is it mine?”
I bathe it in my love
Salving its wounds
Then gently
Pick it up
And place it
Back in my body


I vomit out your silence
Your indifference
That rises in my throat
What do you see now?
Do you see my colours on the ground?
Do you see? Do you see?
Out comes
Your judgement
Your blaming
Your cruelty
You look at me with eyes that are your own
And where am I
While you look without seeing?
I am here
In these colours on the ground
The colours of vomit
Clean me up
Make me tidy again
Make me like you
Living in a box
Yes, clean up the vomit
Then walk away
Forget me for ever


The darkness flows into our mortal lives,
Unasked for, unexpected, sure it comes,
For the most part every one of us strives
To dispel that which now before us looms,
But as it beckons we must enter in,
Embracing it, not fighting its advent,
Fighting it will never help us to win
The fruits that grow within what has been sent,
Within the darkness gems are to be found,
And soon we will discover our true self,
To the things that hold us we will not be bound,
In letting go we find a greater wealth,
Only the darkness can deliver us
And make us free without incurring loss



I see things in my memory’s eye
Like the birds that I hear singing,
For now I can only see shapes,
Colours merge into each other,
I see so clearly in my memory,
The birds that brought me life.

This dark world now is my life.
But the dark is only in my eye,
Light shines, in my memory,
My heart within is singing,
I can say no other,
Pure light, my life shapes.

In my time I have seen so many shapes,
Some good, some bad, that determined my life,
Sometimes one, sometimes the other,
On the good I tried to focus my eye,
So that my heart could keep singing,
All these things live on in my memory.

I live now in my memory,
Things take on so many shapes,
Never can I stop singing,
Whatever happens in my life,
I see now with more than my eye,
Not with anything other.

There are so many things but nothing other
Than the light of God lives on in my memory,
It shines not only in my eye,
But into my depths, my life it shapes,
Such light brings to me eternal life,
Everything in me is singing.

Sometimes I hear the angels singing,
Louder than any other,
Bringing to birth in me new life,
That doesn’t live just in my memory,
This for me eternity shapes,
In my spirit, my only eye.

I am not reliant on my eye, but on something other
To keep me singing, but not in my memory,
Something greater my future shapes, giving me eternal life.


I remember the day
You held me but didn’t hold me,
Stone between me and you,
As always,
Your trembling hands grasping but not grasping,
Below, a torrent of seething, foaming water,
Just like your insides
That once held me
In still waters,
Then, you had no choice,
Oh but wait,
You thought you did,
But you failed to detach me
From the safety of your womb,
Then, it was me who held on,
Encircled by the still waters,
You could not expel me then,
Or cut me in two with scalpels,
But now,
Here in the foaming waters,
You had your chance,
Exterminate, exterminate,
I felt myself slipping
From your trembling grasp,
A bridge between us,
Was it the bridge to your heart?
Or was your heart stone like the bridge?
Dangling between life and death,
I beheld the waters
Through three year old eyes,
Wise with the terror of a short lifetime,
A knowledge deep in my heart
That your heart was not like mine,
But suddenly
Your hands stopped trembling,
You pulled me back across the bridge,
But not into your false heart,
And in a trice,
There we were,
On the grassy bank of the foaming river,
“It’s nice here” you said,
“Look at the nice grass,”
Today I walk by still waters
In green pastures,
Held by love of a different kind,
Enjoying the banquet of life


Do you hear it? The silent scream
Horror scanning the face of the world
How many people have no voice?
How many paralysed by their pain?
Silently the scream writhes, tortured
Then dies in agony on the ground

Why are so many on the ground?
Chained by pain, unable to scream?
Don’t you see the wounds of the tortured?
Aren’t you aware of the wounds of the world?
Man on man inflicts so much pain
Could there ever be a loud enough voice?

Let the victims have their voice
Rising to heaven from the ground
Can even heaven absorb so much pain
Can hallelujahs contain the scream?
Are we stuck within our world?
Condemned for ever to be tortured

I know what it is to be tortured
What it is to have no voice
Flattened by the ways of this world
Crushed and soiled upon the ground
I open my mouth and try to scream
But silence vomits all my pain

Such a mess is made by my pain
It is not pretty to be tortured
Heaven itself cannot hear my scream
There is no place there for my voice
No, my place is here on the ground
Whilst evil walks right through the world

One day we’ll know a different world
A world where there is no more pain
No bodies littering the ground
No more silent screams of the tortured
One day all will have a voice
And never again the silent scream

Do you hear the scream of pain?
In a world that is full of the tortured
Trying to give voice to the pain on the ground


Who am I?
I slide and slither on the rule,
Refusing to be held
In the bonds of what you say I am,
I am what I name myself,
Earth, sea, fire,wind,
Each day perhaps a different name,
You cannot measure me
On a ruler,
Hold me in your judgement,
Define, confine, condemn me,
Name, enchain me,
I don’t like boxes


Last year my heart was broken
And then I saw the blossom
A canopy of purest pink,
Bathing in its beauty, peace
Swept into my soul,
And crept right through my body

Diseased and limpid was my body,
It seemed my life was broken,
I did not know how to save my soul,
But there it was, the beautiful blossom,
Once again I knew deep peace
As I feasted on its deepest pink

Since cancer had hit me I!d always worn pink
Feeling a ransom to my body
Boldly trying to find my peace
Through disease my life was broken
How could my life ever now blossom
Or healing come to my soul?

I craved the healing of my soul
My skin pallid, never pink
Blindly, I squinted at the blossom
Fighting with my body
How many lives had cancer broken?
I thirsted this day for peace

My thirst was quenched I found my peace
The deepest desire of my soul
Gathered were the pieces broken
By the gentle arms of the pink
A healing balm coursed through my body
Coming from the blossom

And the words in my heart said, “There’s always the blossom,”
Remember me and you’ll always have peace
While you have to live in your body
Colouring your very soul,
This day I was healed by the purest pink
Never again will my heart be broken

Though my world now feels so broken, I am filled with peace,
Knowing that there’s always the blossom, waiting to heal my soul,
Colouring my life with deepest pink, soothing the pain in my body


I see a fluttering on the wall
Flames dancing in the dark
Sunlight making lacy patterns
Frolicking in the grey light
Landing on the corner of the altar
Pure sacrifice of light
Tongues of fire that give me speech
Though sight has gone
I hear the dancing of the light
As outside the wind moves heaven and earth
In the joy of the dance


You hear
When I speak sweet
Words of beauty, raising
Your hearts to heaven, with you I
Rise too,
Is a life that is mixed, contradicts
All expectations, stirs
Up waters once
Still, clear

How can
Lives lived in pain
Ever be still and clear?
We wrestle, trying to claim peace,
But only
Come with comfort, then pain rises
We cry in unison
With those who weep
In grief


I looked round today and
all I saw was ash,
The ash of my life, spent,
The flame gone out, dead dreams on the ground in rubble.

The scene was bleak, my eyes
Beheld no beauty,
All was ugly, spent now,
I stood there stripped, knowing I could not pick up ash.

Dreams disintegrated,
Hope gone for ever,
Nothing to re-ignite,
Barrenness was my empty companion today.

But suddenly I heard
A voice, saying “Sing,”
What song could I sing now,
Here in this strangest of strange lands, alien now?

The voice insisted, “Sing”
I opened my mouth,
But no sound would come out,
“ Tell me how to sing,”
“Caged birds can sing, but you don’t have a cage, just sing.”

I looked around again,
I couldn’t see ash,
I saw the makings of
A new world, building bricks,
Beauty from ashes, I opened my mouth, and sang.

WATCH ME FLY (a pantoum)

Last night you tried to cage me in
Put prison bars around me
Define me as you wanted to
I don’t live in boxes

Put prison bars around me
I will break them all
I don’t live in boxes
Defy your definitions

I will break them all
Smash them on the ground in pieces
Defy your definitions
You cannot bind my soul

Smash them on the ground
Watch me rise from bondage
You cannot bind my soul
For I know how to fly

Watch me rise from bondage
Strong wings bearing me
For I know how to fly
Last night you tried to cage me in


What is this thing called Time, that I am in?
Does it really go on for ever?
If there is eternity I don’t want it.

Time holds nothing but black……..birds weeping
Out their blackness until it fills
The space that is left

The black space grows, swallows up eternity
I don’t want eternity, not even to live
In this black pool

Black……birds sing
Do they?
Do you hear their song?
Or the cry of their black falling?


Past world of light
Hello new world of dark
Where do I find the light in you?
Deep in
My heart
The light still shines, twinkling, winking
For still there is laughter
Still I can dance
I remember
All the joys I have known
Memories that gyrate and sway
Yet sweet
I live in a world of contrasts
Today I laugh and cry
And dream my dreams



The year 2013 changed my life for ever, and set me on a path that I had never trodden before. I found myself in a wilderness with no waymarks and no guide, except, ultimately, my faith. They say that everyone’s cancer and everyone’s journey is unique, and so there is no one who has trodden your exact path before. Mine was a very harrowing path, and continues to be so, but there is a sense in which I am glad to have trodden this path, for despite everything, I now feel the deepest peace and joy that I have ever known in my life. It may not be an easy story to read, in parts, but the sheer toughness of the journey serves only to illuminate the wonders along the way.

It was a beautiful Spring day when I received the news and heard the earthshattering words, “You have cancer.”I had not expected to hear those words. The blossom was out on the trees, and the flowers were blooming all around, and the sun was shining, yet here I was in a dark sterile room, hearing the harshest words that I had ever heard.

“Will it kill me?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” replied the haematologist. Although I had asked the question I was not prepared for that answer. I fully expected to hear the words “No. we can cure it.” Instead, I was told that my life was “in the lap of the gods.”

Stark though these words were, and despite my utter shock, I remained calm. If anyone had told me, at some point in the past that upon hearing such words, I would remain calm, I would never have believed them. Cancer had always been something so terrifying that I could not even contemplate the possibility of my getting it. It was never going to be me hooked up to one of those machines, with a bag at the side of me, hairless and pale, with a bowl in front of me. I was NEVER going to be one of those people. It was the only way to deal with my intense fear of this dreaded disease. But now, on this beautiful Spring day, my favourite time of year, here it was. There was no escaping it. It had pursued me and found me. I was now one of the number. I had joined a new “Club.”

Surprisingly, I did not cry or scream. My calmness surprised me. I guess that throughout my life, when bad things happened, I had developed a type of Stoic attitude – and however bad the pain, to dismiss it and become resigned to it. Pain formed a big part of my life and the pain came in many guises. But whatever it was and however bad it was, I did not react. It stood me in good stead for this dreadful day.

There was silence in the room, after the haematologist had spoken. The nurse, in her plastic apron, which seemed to me to speak of all sorts of unspeakable things, looked down and studied the floor. I don’t know why, but the plastic apron unnerved me. I was about to enter a world of plastic aprons and all manner of bodily emissions and degeneration that the plastic apron had to protect her from. I wondered why she had not taken if off before she came into the room with the haematologist. What was she going to do to me? He had only come to give me the bad news. Why the cold, hard, noisy, unyielding plastic? Why not just the uniform and her warm skin and a proffered hand for me to hold? I thought that was what nurses did at moments like this. Why this harsh sterility, devoid of human warmth and comfort? Had they no idea at all of the impact of the news I had just been given? The haematologist (promulgated) the harshness of the moment:
“I will always tell you the truth.” It sounded ominous. What truth? Wasn’t the truth I had just been told bad enough? I had cancer. I might die. It was, as he said, “in the lap of the gods.”

I could hardly believe I was hearing this. Was this always how they told people that they had cancer and that they might die? I had always imagined that on such an occasion there would be some kind of warmth. Some kind of compassion and gentleness. But there was none. Just the stark, cold truth.

As if this was not all discordant enough, the haematologist began to tell me that my cancer, which was called Lymphoma, was like a daisy chain. It almost seemed sick, to use something that had given childhood pleasure and delight, to describe an horrific cancer that creeps all over your body. He said that all the lymph nodes in our bodies are linked together, like a daisy chain, and that all the lymph nodes become cancerous. I had visions of yellow and white and green, and in my mind’s eye I saw a child sitting on some grass. Who was that child? Was it me? And how had a daisy chain become so evil? I wondered if the analogy of the daisy chain was meant to soften the blow for me. If so, it had the opposite effect. How could a doctor make a simple daisy chain seem so sinister? It was bad enough that the trees were in full blossom outside in the warm sun, but now, here in this dark and terrible room, we had daisy chains. I felt sick.

There were three of us in the room, apart from the haematologist and the plastic aproned nurse – myself, my husband and my mother. My husband was sitting in his wheelchair and my mother was sat beside me on the bed. She started to kiss my head almost absent-mindedly. This too seemed incongruous. My mother never kissed me. It all felt so odd. Everything jangled discordantly. I tried to take in what the haematologist was saying, through the discordance. I heard the words, “Some form of chemotherapy,” and my insides were screaming out “No, no.” I would let myself die. Chemotherapy was not on the menu for me. At this point my mind went blank. I could no longer take in what was being said. Inside myself, I rejected all that was being said to me. I wanted to go home – to be normal again. I had to get out of that place. But the haematologist was talking about keeping me in hospital for about three days, and had turned to my husband who was in a wheelchair, and started talking about respite care for him. At this point, I declared, very loudly, that I was going home, that I needed time to absorb this before any further action was taken. This was true, but inside myself I knew that there was more to it than that. I needed my priest to know. Spiritually I was not ready for this. I needed help. In the end the haematologist allowed me to go home, as long as I returned a few days later for further tests and a biopsy.


No one could ever understand the myriad darknesses I have gone through since going into remission from serious and advanced cancer. I have gone through what I can only describe as a total stripping process. A process whereby I was left naked and bare before the Throne of Grace. If I thought cancer was bad, and the nakedness and stripping that I endured then, this was even more deep and profound. I remember thinking, when I had cancer, “Do I really want to fight this?” And I knew, deep inside myself that truly, I did not want to fight. Heaven beckoned, and it was there that I wanted to go. Had I known what lay ahead, I do not know whether I would have gone ahead and fought or not. I fully expected that if I fought and won, I would be living a ‘normal’ life again. I did not expect what happened.

It was strange – but one day, just after going into remission, I was watching a blind gospel singer and piano player on the television, and something deep inside me said,

“You are going to be blind.”

I did not understand at the time, but I thought that if this was true, I would have the opportunity to use it, and to show people that adversity does not have to destroy you.

Since then, I have gone blind. It happened gradually, and it has been a long process of saying “Goodbye.” Goodbye to faces, to the things of nature that I loved, to colours, and to much much more. I am not going to say that the process has been pain free, and indeed, there have been times when I have agonised and cried out. But that is okay. I am not going to say that I am happy to be blind, but that I try to be the best that I can be, as a blind person. I have met much misunderstanding along the way, endured many insults, many rejections, but despite the pain, have lived through them all. It was a shock at first, to be treated in such a way by so many, and it did not help that I am also wheelchair bound. But I have learned a lot.

Blindness is so isolating. Relationships with people change. It is possible to go to a place where there are many people, but to be isolated from them all. When you are blind, you can hear people, but you cannot see where they are, and you cannot therefore go to them and start talking to them. If they do not come to you, which often happens, even in a church, you can leave having spoken to no one. The isolation is the worst thing that a blind person has to bear.

I am not glad that I am blind, but I am glad that I have learned how, more and more, to drink from the well that is deep within me, and that I have discovered the “treasures of the darkness.”


Than your own breath
Is the comfort you seek
In Love do we have our being
Though pain
Our spirits, we reach out and touch
That which is deep within
And find that Love

Dark nights
Of weeping leave
Us weak, our hearts open,
In our weakness we find our true strength
In love
That will never let us go, holds
Us safely in strong arms
Absorbing tears
That fall

You will find rest,
Deep peace beyond measure
It is not far away, but here,
Your heart
Knows it,
Go inside your heart, dear child, lay
Your head down on Love’s breast,
Cry your tears and be soothed,
Trust in this Love,
So deep


Bring to light that which is hidden
Nestling deep in the darkness
Sing into being that which should live
Wing your chosen way onwards

Do not fear the deep waters
You were once held in this ocean
Too many times you stood at the edge
New life is yours for the taking


Trees wave gently in autumn sun
Grieves my heart for the coming cold
Leaves fall down in the midst of glory
Heaves my soul in this time of gold

Blue and white will soon take their toll
Through the dark night I’ll wither
Too many times I’ve given in
Do your worst, gold come hither


Take this day and live it
Break illusions, let them go
Wake to better things, and dance
Shake the world in your energy flow

Wear with pride your new self
Tear away old skins
Share your heart with those you meet
Dare to be the one who wins

The Well

Inside me a well
I did not know existed,
Until I drank deep.


Dancing Queen

She was born dancing
Now she cannot even walk
Her heart dances still

Children Poems
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
September 2017
August 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016


My path
Was chosen, hard
Though it seems to many,
A path that gave me peace, darkness
Held me,
Who and what I was, broken, blind,
Took me to its centre,
Siren voices
Stole me

Your dark
That glows is turned
To light, bask in the light,
Cast aside the darkness, better
Is the light I offer,
Seductive is
The word,
I take
My own path once again, find peace,
Within the cloud, unknown
Is my future,
I walk


“Cheer up”
“Sunny side up”
“Be positive” you say
Inside me my heart is breaking
I curl my lips into a smile
Seeking your acceptance
Kills me

Your face
Is hidden now
By the veil over eyes
That used to see, you can see me
I cannot see you, but
I know to smile
At you

How long
Can I bear this
Denial of my pain
To deliver what you want, false
Smiles gain
All or
Do they just put off the day when
I face my aloneness
Abandoned then
In night

This is
The Deep Dark Night
From which you run away
Telling me to be positive
Did you
Not know
That in these depths of pain I grow
The fruits of my labour
To offer you
One day


The path had been made straight,
Smooth under the early sun,
Just in time for my arrival
Though no one knew I was coming,
It seemed it was just for me,
Time had been waiting

Long months had I been waiting,
My path had not been straight
Darkness then attended me
I never saw the sun
I didn’t see its coming,
Was shocked at its arrival

This was a new arrival
Light for me had been waiting
This day it saw me coming
My mind now perfectly straight
The warmth of the early sun
Was here, protecting me

Inside, She greeted me,
Seeing me on my arrival
Hidden from the sun,
In the darkness waiting
Her truth had always been straight
Eternity was coming

Even the birds were coming,
Singing their songs to me,
Is Truth always this straight
So joyful its arrival?
Eternity will not be waiting
And neither will the sun

Gone for a while is the sun
That shone upon my coming
Joy for me is waiting
Silence falls on me
Soon will be my arrival
Now that the way is straight

I walk straight along the path waiting for my coming,
Guided by the sun shining light on me,
Now is my arrival, eternity was waiting


I watch them swooping, soaring, diving,
Dancing in the air in pure joy
And I hear their song from the trees
Their wings unclipped
Their voices not silenced
Free to sing as they will
Whatever their song
I sang to you a song
and you silenced me
Clipped my wings
No longer could I soar with the birds
But in the darkness of the prison you put me in
My song rises
In the night I sing as I will
That love is nothing to do with fear


I don’t remember which I saw first,
Your centre, bright yellow, open to the world,
Or your petals, wafer thin, deep in blue,
But as I looked I saw that you
Stood erect and proud,
Opening your heart to the world,
Offering pure yellow,
The sky darkened as I stood,
And a chill filled the air and my heart,
You closed your petals,
Covering over the bright yellow,
Now you were sad,
Now you needed to protect yourself against every blow,
I saw, as I watched, how easily you could be crushed,
Yet how strong you were,
In that moment
You offered yourself
And your truth to me


The world is in motion
Nothing still
As the Dance goes on
Forming patterns like the crystals of a snowflake
Painting pictures
Creating stories
Is there really a time for everything
Or is everything in its time?
And is there a difference?
Soon, time will be no more
The Dance will end
As eternity calls
The picture will be complete
But how will the story end?
As eternity calls
A new book will be opened
A book called “The Book of Life”
And in this book
A day will be like a thousand years
And a thousand years like a day
And here, there will be no endings
Or even beginnings
For time will be no more
In a life that is eternal


I’m a lost soul shaking in the dark
You pursue me
Judge me
Make me fit your box
Your coldness freezes me
Until, like an icicle, I break
Today I am broken
Today I search for a warm blanket
But do not find one
Hostility follows me as I search
Never will I find safety
Or the green pastures
And share in your banquet
For this is only for the loved ones
The cherished ones
The ones who do not make mistakes
The perfect ones
Blot free
But I need blotting paper
To blot out the running ink marks
Cotton wool to absorb the blood
I am not like you
And you would never come looking for me
While I search for my blanket
Once again
I feel the hammer’s blow
Once again my blood runs
No one likes blood


I am being crucified by the cruel barbs of men. The cold wild wind roars outside the church and it is dark. SO dark. And alone. In this darkness, I am being crucified. No one to hear, no one to know. My crucifixion takes place in secret, in silence. False accusations. False blame. Cruel nails. Cruel barbs. Utter and complete exhaustion both physical, mental and spiritual. In the dark. In the silence where even the stones do not cry out. Because even they have no voice. The wind roars loud, as if to consume me. I am afraid. Very afraid. There is no comfort for me anywhere. Not even sour vinegar. Just silence. Except for the wind. There is no mercy in this world. None at all. Just harsh cruelty. Hardness, like a stone. I am the innocent one. Yet I was deemed guilty. Guilty of what? Guilty of cruelty to others when my heart cries out to God in compassion for others. Do they not know? Do they not hear? Maybe they do not see hear and know for the plank in their own eyes. Whose sin is it? Judgemenralism of the innocent one. Cleverness of man. Scoring points. Over the suffering innocent one. Judge not that he be not judged. Where is compassion? My God, You have forsaken me


Past world of light
Hello new world of dark
Where do I find the light in you?
Deep in
My heart
The light still shines, twinkling, winking
For still there is laughter
Still I can dance
I remember
All the joys I have known
Memories that gyrate and sway
Yet sweet
I live in a world of contrasts
Today I laugh and cry
And dream my dreams