I started writing this collection of poems about a year ago. Today
is the twenty-second of December 2012. First I was interested in
narrating the Gospel in fiction. Somehow the truth is tied to every
word from God. So it came to the point of losing reasoning.
Shakespeare was a poet, and so was Mozart. The craft is the
author's tools. God allows him to inherit his fruits. Very often
composure is gifted. Trees seldom grow twisted. Read with reasoning
and don't forget understanding. The gift of love is eternal. Love
is turned on and is exposed through true light. My prayer is that
those who explore these poems learn to dissolve all the compounds
and surround them. The mystery of Jesus is grace. These are all
found in this very human race.
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