Excerpt from Blink

“So I converse with the words and bury them in the sand, so that maybe home will write back in magical footsteps that I can follow, or perhaps tender words of consolation and a song that can put me to sleep. Then right before I fall into the words, I spill some of the rare little golden sands I have left in my hourglass. And I look at their stream as they, and I, both fall and blink, and my faded gaze hopes the wind carries them to where they belong. And as timeless beats of memories, eternal moments of warmth, an agony consigned to oblivion and the daily dying deadly hope all crash into the changing and changeless sand, words of flesh and blood clash with words of dust and soul. The crash is in the fall but the painting captured is a resonance that captures the mind, without letting the soul slip away. And this resonance is vibration and its vibration is a seismic fracture drawing a keyhole in the snow, below two words calculating the aftermath, words of love and synchronicity — Welcome Home.”