Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Once faced with your destination
What is left to prove?
Once you’ve walked down paths forsaken
What’s there left to lose?
Is there any power lying useless
In your hands?
Is there in this crowded landscape
Anyplace to land?

Why Do This?

I don’t do this for you.
I do it for myself.
This art -
This expression?
This is my freedom.
This momentary release -
This peace-giving thing
Is my thing.

Spoken And Written

Words come like breathing -
Like moving or anything
Natural
That flows from the soul.
There is power
And eternity
And a kind of strength
In the written word
That does not exist in the spoken word.
The spoken word speaks
And then it is forgotten.
The spoken word speaks
And is clouded by tone
Body language and facial expression.
The written word waits -
Simply -
To be interpreted by a soul.