I write because the words call to me in my dreams. They often speak of things only heard when my subconscious is in control. I have endured battles, cried at weddings, and buried my dead. This duality is the most rewarding and significant part of my mind as it roars through the darkness to witness other worlds, whether alien races or people fighting on Earth for life and love or Mechiterra (my Middle Earth). I am both a victim and a victor on the paths I am led down. I have spoken prayers and cursed the devil. I am tortured by love and caressed by pain. As a writer, I must express my fears, to be a prophet, a thief, a husband, or a wife speaking through my pen of things seen in the mind’s eye. I am an imperfect vessel tasked with the improbable job of trying to put into words what thrills me and the sorrow that leaves me wounded. I am all things in my dreams.
We all have talents; some people, they do not set their abilities free. It leaves them with fragmented memories of what might have been. As a young adult, I made a promise to myself that I would not allow my words to die in me. So, many years ago, “Voices of Nature” was born. I have been writing for the past forty-five years with little thought of publishing. I wrote to quiet the voices that seek expression. That changed last year when the urge to share my work suddenly propelled me to pursue publishing. I have a great love for the written word. It is a gratifying feeling when someone reads your work, and it touches an emotion that has lain hidden below the surface; this fuels my ambitions to continue writing. I cannot imagine ignoring the clamoring and frantic words of fighting for freedom and not putting them on paper. I have often said that there must always be one person who knows your entire truth. Writing is that companion for me; writing unveils all that I am, and I do my best to lay my soul bare. My greatest joy lies in bringing my inspirations to life. I pray it is worthy of the readers who partake of my words. I hope you take this journey with me. Everything I write is a chance for a conversation. What concerns me is the quiet noise some of my words create. This life is not just for love and happiness. If we leave personal tragedy out of our dialogue, none of us will grow. I have lived this life searching for the echoes of life while listening for the truth. I pray I have listened well.