at The Edge, of Oblivion



Behold The Brightest Star






 inside The Sky,  a

Delta,  from an Artist brushed, 

a Fleet of Diamonds,  flying in Silence,  as

*           the Last,  of Winter’s whispered Breath,  is hushed . . .     ­*

then,  under The Light,  of Her Vernal Moon,

as Heaven,  and Earth,  held Their Breath,

a chevroned Wing,  of The Fires of Ice,

     so poised,  at Evil’s Eye,  was Death . . .

*                                                                *

­                                                        ­



(  and may The Horse,  be with U  )



from Book I,  The Ring ( First Light ) The First DoveTale – The Rhythm of Life



a Spiral StareWay




Clouds,  and All

(  right where They should be  )



then,  as Once,  Again,

and The Eyes of Heaven

embrace the Stillness, 

to gaze upon

a Man, 


with no

name or number,

with No Doubt,  of His

Purpose,  with No Rest,

to call His Own,  on

His Knees,


His Dory,

The Stars,  Above

and Below Him,  well

beyond The Reach,  of

Men,  and Machine,

Ever rowing,



and All

      Forgiveness . . .

*      *      *      *

and while The Legion of Stars

quietly ponder His Intent,  in The Presence of Their Grace,

listening to The Sigh of an Echo in His Wake,  They see a Place called Earth,

      slowly turning to greet The Day,  and yet pulled by The Fine,  and Silver Thread,  of His Heart . . .





from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Tenth DoveTale – The Cliffs of Andromeda