Wraiths of weary warriors war within the recesses of my soul. Awaiting my decision, they are. Will I pick up their pallium, or will I remain somewhere in this middle where action is not to be found?
To the "Self-Made" men and women out there: Yahweh breathed the black powder of your soul and spirit into the powder keg of your mother's womb. Your father, torch in hand, ran up that path, determined
"Here though I trod through this valley" and then my mind ran away....... There was once a village, in a vast valley, between two voluminous mountains. One of the mountains was slightly taller than t