This is a reading I wrote in 2008, in response to a dream I had the night before Easter, on Holy Saturday. I can still hear the whispers in the day and the night. WHISPERS OF NEW CREATION Dan Wilt We hear a voice, now
To think that I could die With this fire inside; Half out, and warming, Half in, and burning.
forward on points of no return I walk the bridge beneath my feet, That bears my soul from height’s despair; And forward in this trepid quest, Toward the far, new edge I dare. So forward seems my only choice, To now return would folly be;
Christianity.ca just posted a short story I wrote a few years ago, called Quest For The Perfect Christmas Tree on their site. Quest for the Perfect Christmas Tree – Christianity.ca After this year’s Quest experience, I may be adding another paragraph soon: The Judgement-Of-The-Trees-Ceremony –
This is a poem I wrote for one of my Master’s papers on the nature of humanity. I find that when I am writing raw poetry, I am able to say so much more with less words than when I am writing prose. In the
