Majestic

when the night quiets and I await my journey when moth wings against my window delays the return of my lucid dream, now paused upon the lip of consciousness the light wind creates that comforting brush of leaf and limb and time, because the release of all things relative stands still we meet first in colors, then in movement and all the lives and all the dreams I have lived are here encased in the majestic realm of the dreamer

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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