Here, am I now, so late in the year, beginning my life’s poems? Why does bare fruit as the winds are picking up, and the sky is cool and still. Here, I am Poems Journal 2021, Holy, Holy, Holy!
from 09/19/2021
I hear the Master’s voice. I drive the Master’s carriage.
His Brilliance far better than mine; Intelligence vast and infinite.
A co-pilot from eternal planes. But I am driving.
I hear the Master’s Voice; I drive the Master’s carriage.
Stutz's Fairy Tales and Poems 