Monthly Archives: March 2026

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Would you Believe 

by Liam

There are days

when the road closes in around you,

when the air thickens

with the weight of unfinished questions,

With the fragrance of misunderstood answers. 

Yet the wound of the moment

is rarely the thing that breaks the heart.

It is the quiet whisperer

that tells me:

This is how it will always be.

That voice builds a house

inside your mind,

nails the windows shut,

dims the lamps of your tomorrow.

Our magnificent soul was not made

for sealed rooms, though.

Somewhere beyond that taught and learned horizon

An unseen tide is already turning;

the dusty field beneath these feet

is quietly gathering green.

Not one winter has ever convinced the earth

that spring was impossible.

And no difficulty

no matter how stern its face,

has ever possessed the final word.

So should the night lean heavily upon you,

Remind and remember this hidden kindness of time:

“What tries to destroy you

is not the path through the mountain,

but the belief

that the mountain will never move.”

Lift your gaze friend.

Every single stone

is learning slowly 

how to become sand on the beach.

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At the Turning of my Soul

by Liam

Some kneel only when the ground gives way,

when the night has chewed through every excuse

and the self stands stripped of its bright disguises.

There, in the ache where dignity dissolves,

a moment waits

not to accuse you,

but to breathe warmth into thy fractured name.

Others climb their days toward sunlit hills,

arms full of answered prayers,

And unfulfilled dreams.

Yet at the summit, dazzled by the view,

they mistake the panorama for the source

and bow to the feeling instead of the cognition.

What once felt given begins to feel earned,

and gratitude thins becoming ownership.

God does not favor the broken over the blessed.

It is not sin that opens the door,

nor success that seals it shut.

It is the posture of your heart

whether it bends,

whether it listens,

whether it remembers it is not the maker of its own light.

The sacred often enters sideways:

through the cracks of failure,

through the humbling of joy,

through the moments when certainty dissolves 

and wonder slips back in.

May you be saved from this arrogance of arrival

and the despair of collapse.

May you learn to recognize the sacred 

both in the bruise and in the blessing.

And may you never forget

that grace is not found at the bottom or the top,

but in the turning…

that quiet inward recognition 

where the soul finally stops performing

and allows itself to be recognized.

Remembered by the consciousness we carry.

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The Art of Love

by Liam

Have you considered loving Love itself?

Take up this blossom gently in your hands,

And lift it to your beating heart

Within this basket, Love is born;

Within we learn to love its flame.

Now warm, O warm my heart with tender light;

Cast wide the woven blanket of this dusk,

Fine-threaded with the colors of the sky.

Then let it descend to cradle restless eyes,

To still their startled, winged and wandering flight.

For here are you, and here am I,

Enraptured in the movement of one pulse

A fleeting instant, opening into time.

A moment stretches toward eternity,

While infinity shrinks to oblivion 

Yet Forever echoes the answer: 

…Love…Love…Love…