Winter touches us in ways that hands never could.

“The frost is heaven’s first applause.”

If love is the current, then let prayer be the tide — carrying us home to each other and to Him.

Upon the shores of Biltwurt, Entwhistle in Eastern Wysterica was found a tiny blue gem.

In dream, a cuckoo keeps time; the sea is an audience; music makes a maelstrom.

How do I make the voices stop?

Wading into a bit of philosophy with this one.

Stark raving madness this way lies

Dual furnaces where the dancer stokes his own doom.