Lately, I have been winding down on my former whirlwind life of spiritual guide and teacher. Maybe it's old age, but I want a quieter life now. Oh, I'm still giving small classes and seeing private clients, but not at the breakneck pace I have kept up for so long.

When Joann Turner told me that she was ready to step back and asked if Allen and I would like to carry on with The Messenger, it was a welcomed with open arms. Joann and I have known each other for, as my uncle Bud used to say, "A coon's age." We worked together at WellspringBooks and Lifesource for a while before Joann, brave soul that she is, quit to follow her dream of publishing The Messenger. I've always admired her for that.

I have no time, anymore

To sit and watch the Earth turn,

Sending the Sun to sleep.

I have no time, anymore
To stand at lands end 
and have the smiling sea
lap at my feet.

From VIKTOR WISE. . .

The putrid smell,

eyes bloodshot red.

I fear a monster near.

It's only a cold I tell myself.

I won't die. 

I won't have to go the

Big white place where they

Stick needles in me and 

Make me poop in a pan.

I’m only passing by, not through, just by.

And as I observe you, I see the tragedy of

being within and the desperation of being

on the without….

Cosmic birth,

The Universe unfolding stardust

Into the emptiness of space . . . 

Star birth,

Ancestor star, 

Living, growing, bursting again,

Galactic nursery of our kind . . .