If ever I am gone, here you shall find me, in an overgrown mead of wildflower and weed, with my head drawn up in the late day sun. By Jason Weaver, 2018 Advertisements
Folk-Lure
High upon Dragon’s Head peak above a place they’ve named Valley of the Gods, a late-day sun was set to cede to the mist of eve, so we mounted our descent to camp, she ahead as I ambled more slowly behind. I don’t remember her having slipped from my view when I found myself in … Continue reading
div/e/in/e
Arriving at the water’s edge of this illusory solid ground, where the “How?” and the “Why?” and the “Who am I?” no longer serve me well, I strip off all intention of seeking beyond and dive-in to the verdant flux within submerging below the whirling unknown not without fear not without doubt but reveling in … Continue reading
The Shadow
He left in pursuit of his own existence for even of that he was unsure. He yearned for unobscure truths that he could feel in his hands and say, Here, this is what I am. This I can believe in. By Jason Weaver, 2017
Morning Grace
Let me be tender and kind, tolerant and wise; Let me be generous and just, grateful and forgiving; Let me be strong by being compassionate. Let me show love without restrain. Let me give without wanting, and receive without taking. Let me be humble. Let me be sincere. Let this be my morning grace. by … Continue reading
