The Illusion of Separateness
The ancients called it ekstasis, or outside oneself. But does that really happen? Are we ever outside ourselves?Read the poem
Poems from February 2024
Bus Poem: My Iranian Gentleman
In his soft-spoken, conspiratorial voice he told me his name, but it flew in one ear and out the other and I failed to ask again. …Read the poem
[tanka]
deep grasses choke the broad path we used to walk our past is lost in a seamless field of greenRead the poem
Just Asking Questions
Change, development, and growth is everywhere we look in academics, the business world, science and technology, in music, the arts, in history, …Read the poem
