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Forty Days And Forty Nights
The Baby Boy gazed up at the leaves being moved by the gentle breeze. He had no words or concepts of things like leaves, trees or sky; for him it was an overwhelming kaleidoscope of fragmented green, constantly shifting and moving, all possible shades and variations, with the steady deep and clear azure behind. He…
Coffee, Cake, and Yucky Pus
This short piece of creative writing is a dream that I had, a long time ago, and has stayed with me over the decades since. Interestingly, shortly after I had this dream, I went into a period of very difficult emotional and spiritual turmoil, almost to the point of not being functional any more in…
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