One thing this decade has taught us, like many decades before it: truth is dangerous. The quiet act of putting pen to paper, words on a page, releases tremors that travel far, and won’t be suppressed easily – even if the author himself is eliminated from the equation. Though this blog stands testament to my…
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Sapling in the Woods (A Poem)
Beneath my feet are crunching leaves, martyrs to the world’s law, And above me the canopy, shaking leafy branches in a tribal dance, Like a million green eyelashes in the sky’s eyes Nobody is listening. The gnarled limbs of the trees spread to claim the sky Gather the sun like gold, loot, I look up…
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