Hides behind pictures on a screen,
Beyond words on paper.

You can hear her between statements,
In a sigh,
In a laugh,
With wrinkles around the eyes.

You can see her when you aren’t looking,
When you aren’t thinking,
When you weren’t asking.
You might not notice.

She can explode.
A question,
A hug,
A check-in –

Authenticity –
She’s where happiness lives.
Devoid of mask or cloak.
Free from expectations,
From self and others.

She is true.
Feared for her candor,
Perceived as aggression,
She is still loving,
And strong.

The powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse


O Me! O Life!

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
– Walt Whitman

The crownless again shall be king


All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring