In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?

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City


I come alive in the bustle of people and traffic. I move with the rhythm and step to the heartbeat of the city. Startles or nods or a familiar thrumming of sound, these are all the steady breathing moments of this place.
Quiet smiles or quick laughter greet the early morning coffee crowd. Deliberate steps, somber stroll, or gladly skipping, sauntering footfalls, are all the white noise of the streets.
Lit windows and dim alleys... I come eye to eye with a stranger and for a moment there is a human thread that connects us - purpose, dreams, a longing - of our different lives... we break away to move on, but we have been touched; warmed by the lives around us and the world: breathing, stepping, seeking, just as we are.
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