Spirit of Lighthouse


Not just that I grew up with you my entire life

but that the Light never leaves my shore

and that the Light breathes into me, fire.

Not that I could run from You or hide, my iris could never survive

the dark, its raw spit in the rock crevice of

the bones of my soul-

my Friend Holy Lighthouse spearing the night with dawn forever

as if I were but one little ship to harbour, as if the shadow of You were

my fragility, as if the shadow of me were Your Tower of Refuge,

some call You God, and Light of the World, for me You’ll always be

my eternal House of Defence, my House of Light


woman in stripes holding hands with person wearing bracelets


My worst kept secret


Darkness told me of the Light

eyes portrait person girl

how it shrank from Its density

told me of Light’s path, Its ways

how nothing could kill It,

It just went on, as if It were immortal,

as if darkness itself were just Its absence.


Light fell like Rain in my eyes

It dripped my desert

dripped It dry – my life was never the tunnel

was never the tunnel –







inspired by

https:// thedarkesttunnel.wordpress.com/2018/06/07/monsters/


Stalked by a Healer



grayscale photography of a person with scarf

Death died,

I’ve been stalked by a Healer.

He hangs my gallows in the

vale of the shadow

of doubt, yeah here

black and white dead die diving

disabilities, disabled

by the River of Light-

self-destruct – murdered

black and white photo of holding hands

loss, lost

emptiness, emptied

poverty, bankrupt

rejection rejected,

low light photo of opened book


tempests stormed,

war, bombed

beautiful bloom blooming blossom

heartbreak, broken-

pickpockets, stolen,

loneliness, de-friended,


I don’t know how, but just now,

death died,

I’ve been stalked

by the Healer….


man walking on floor


Healing Rain




If words and rhyme could kill crime, they would, but they are little fires in the furnace of eternity where humans bruise like reeds, and are not just broken-  we rise, we die, live, cry, we are more than the dust we return to, 

e’en the stones know what we do not know, until we are broken –


after the rain art black and white close up


so fall Healing Rain

whisper Your secrets,

It is Time


let It scour the rust, of the ashes of dust, you and I-

we are children of seasons that turn,



born to be born

we must carry the Light

of the Risen: fall,


Healing Rain.


close up of leaf

Called, Chosen

Streets are people

Houses are homes

Our bones are souls,

Each different,unique

like fingers in a palm.

Why’re they asking me to fit in

like they do


Were you ever held by a whisper


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My Father’s Eyes


He had these tears,

like when a father is betrayed

it was the first time I wiped His eyes

when I prayed.

the first time here I felt a bit

what it must be like, to be hit

like that, oh dear God, like that

like when your own child steals Your Gold,

like warm food deliberately left out to get


How it feels like to be over ruled

envy, jealousy, pride, dear God, I never would have thought

You cried –

I never thought, how would I

this is not what mortals know –

what humans foil and demons throw :

humans can engineer two sides

two opposite sides…

yes it can make a father cry, but what I remember most is that

I dreamed I wiped Your eyes…

was that just a dream..