How Deep the Pain Goes Quiet, After

Still: that love and loss are the greatest gifts, the deepest sorrows one can ever know. And who can say what God is -- if finding Him, we are both shattered and fulfilled?

May it never be that there is no final "after..." that there may always be something wonderful, rising from "the deep" within.

When one loves too intensely, the vulnerability is ever there for disaster. We are so fragile, so weak; yet stronger than imagined when tested. One hopes that day will never come-yet come it will. And always we are unprepared. But life was not meant to be lived on eggshells. Strength is most often gained from failure.

These poems run the range of simple observation to the shattered real of personal confession... tracing the evolution not only of history and all it implies, but to the progress and confrontations we must ever acknowledge within ourselves and regarding others. As an old adage implies: win or lose, the game must be played, and hopefully we may dance well. Though life is far from a game. Yet the prizes are many, and the losses varied. As much as one can, we must ever seek to value the ride.