The War of Art

This mind...
This mind can be a mass grave
That possesses the self righteous authority
To sentence and bury life away;
A cannibal consuming its own creativity
Which was once a whisper recognized as potential
That is now a war torn pit of
Tortured malnourished concentration
Tossed beside already dismembered skeletal structures.

Or,

This mind...
This mind can be a liberator
Setting free forces allied with insight
Triumphing over the tyrants of thought
Exhuming whispers recognized as potential
And arming them in marching waves of lines
Tearing down walls of censorship
Preserving expression and the right to assemble
Which will restore order to artistic chaos

In memory of all that should have

Never been lost.

The Point is...

Exactly one week ago I was sitting in exactly the same place as I am today, outside at a coffee shop writing and enjoying the day; 12o hand written pages into yet another novel. My concentration was broken by several emails, texts, and phone calls which were all heartfelt explanations of what my mom's teachings in my recently released book, God from the Grave: a story of life, even in death, had done for them.

My mother took on the biggest battle of her life, and lived to serve others; acknowledging that it was going to take a miracle for her to survive, but that her prayers for a miracle would be answered because she said God could not use her from the grave. The book was written to overcome that last notion in a positive way, and to own up to the natural circumstances all of humanity is subject to, when we seemingly lost her. In every way people were taking the time to reach out last week, each were emotional and even tearful explanations of forgiveness, re-kindled relationships and friendships, and the power her faith now had on their every day lives.

With more clarity than ever before, I realized that her prayers were answered, and her body did not wilt away in the grave because now she quite literally embodies the miracle she asked for. Needless to say, I had a hard time keeping it together in a public place, and nothing more got done, but my life is made that much better knowing her miracle lives on through others.