“I dedicate this book to the patient love and faithful prayers of my friend and mother Jean.” Poetry has always been in my being from earliest memory. Even as a young child, I would climb into the highest branches and sway with the wind suspended between the immense potential of a star filled heaven and the banal motion of a finite earth. Even then my soul would sing in an unknown language, glorifying the majestic presence connected in every living thing. The first time a written poem touched that part of me was one from a book collection titled Little Drops of Water read to me by my mother. I knew then my true calling in this life. I have died at least three times in this passage. Once, in innocence, when I was a child. I beheld a world of light and shadow fading darkly, my soul nearer to the beginning then. A second time I died in war and became spiritually dead, my life a shell among the walking dead. Miraculously, I was later revived out of darkness by the grace of God, through Jesus the Messiah, born again by revelation of an extraordinary creation and the good news of salvation. I died yet again in the flesh in later years, drawn irresistibly to a judgment seat on the frontier of eternity, re-resurrected into present time and space for reasons only spiritually divined. I attended University of California Los Angeles and graduated with degree in Creative Writing, only to learn the mechanics of writing often contradictory to creative style, which runs a course not completely comprehended through academia. Not to say that academia unimportant. It serves as a regulator to a force of potential, but is not the definitive abstraction of the source. Poetry is a spiritual manifestation in natural context, channeled through flesh and blood experience. It is, and is not thought, as defined by reason. It emulates from multiple strings of invisible forces designed on a grand scale of elevation existing outside normal space time eventuality. This is why poetry reflects in the elemental present, and at the same instant elevates immutably transcendent. Contained in this volume are the whispers of poetry listened to and transcribed by the poet, reflections of a source of grander potential than the written word only. I am in humble remembrance that I remain but a messenger in time.