I’m sitting in my quiet and darkened office Sunday evening. There are a few raindrops still falling outside and they make gentle sounds as they hit the trees and ground. The only light is from a porch across the street, and that single bulb gently illuminates the rain and condensation on the front windows.
In the stillness, I can hear something which is frequently drowned out by the noise of the world. When the natural silence around me is such that every tiny sound becomes like the crash of cymbals, I can hear something inside myself.
Something in there has a lot to say when I can be quiet enough to listen. My heart feels a lot of things deeply and desperately needs someone to hear those things. My soul seems to know things about truth and wisdom and knowledge that come from somewhere beyond my understanding. Bits and pieces of me have a lot to say — and I need to hear them.

Childhood programming trains us to wait for authority’s permission
As the gods of this world die off, we face a profound crisis of faith
Don’t be so quick to walk away; you might be close to success
I’d forgotten what I said about her necklace, but she hadn’t forgotten
I’m waiting for life to begin, but I’m feeling lost and alone tonight
Just underneath a civilized veneer, savage conqueror lives in my DNA
How many warnings can life give us when something’s gone wrong?