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I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists
John J. Geddes
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John J. Geddes
First
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Snow
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Exists
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If you want your own distinctive voice, you first have to become someone.
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Here's what I've learned - people will hurt you, but you don't have to respond: Not every mean comment or cruel act deserves to be noticed.
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Poetry is paying attention to life when all the world seems asleep to its beauties and truths.
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You think so logically... like a hawk soaring - I feel so chaotically... like a kite without a tail plummeting to earth.
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The religion of the heart is as intimate as a wish breathed to the night sky.
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I'm not afraid of the opinions of others - but of being needed and coming up short.
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Authority is the unmistakeable tone in the voice of a true writer.
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I make no apology about stirring the depths - every human longs to swim under water and see what lurks beneath
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I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.
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Ambition or contentment? This simple question led me back to a more balanced view of life and put me in touch with the Me I used to know.
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I love it when the dark bottle of night spills out, and the Moon writes in chalk about us.
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Freshly cut Christmas trees smelling of stars and snow and pine resin - inhale deeply and fill your soul with wintry night.
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The abyss you stare into and that stares back at you is your reflection in the mirror - we all have it - that shadow self - that dark heart.
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A sensual life is a ghostly existence where you live on the surface and your soul passes through everything, touching nothing.
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I'm a modern mountebank - I believe in Physiognomy - after all, we are in control of our face - it's the map of where we've been.
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