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The unseasonably warm winter has created a vibration in the homeostasis sought by the New England season. The timing is off. The rhythm and poetry of musicians and poets is forced into a conglomerate of colors, one bending into the other until one cannot tell where red lets off and orange begins; the collection fading to black.
This also is the state of This Being Human.....
Is there one who is constant and whom you can entirely rely on? I have, in discovering the light and the dark, the visible and the shadow of This Being Human.....that everyone, in the right environment, is capable of anything. This awareness leads to compassion for others. In seeking a compassionate hand and an understanding friend, to accept, love and forgive even my darkest shadow self, I have come to know, once again, that it all starts with me.

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