October 10, 2007


--one who with some unmerited regularity is granted visions of world imbued with grace in every color and dimension now known, only to be called upon to replicate such visions with mere pencil and scratch paper.

One rests in the comfort of the Spirit's guiding hand.

During most of the week, I feast at a table adorned with the richest of narratives. Sunday morning comes, and I can only invite this flock to sit at table with my vocal bread and water.

One rests in the comfort of the Spirit’s knack for spices.