I speak but there is no sound. You cannot see me on the page. We are lost as if we had never been here, as if we never knew one another. I see but there is only blurred illusion from that other place, where the other life, so real, exists and then is gone. I… Continue reading I Speak
Author: W.H. (Wade) Johnson
Novelist, author of the Ancestors series of books (and many other things), husband, father, grandfather, amateur genealogist, shamelessly bad fair-weather golfer, retired IT professional and traveler in time.
See Me Now
I walk in the black sand as the volcano sleeps. My passing is marked by footprints pressed into time. I am there and then the ocean washes me away. The world is my home, you are my child. Together we are made from the stuff of dreams. Born from spark, before the sun, before time.… Continue reading See Me Now
Rusty Bones
Imagine my rusty bones scattered in the dust, drying under the red fire of the sun, your eyes so pale they are almost white. You and me; life, dice loaded from the start; birth, scrounging for change, scraping, when it was then. I will love you until I die; you and me meandering through the… Continue reading Rusty Bones
Human Democracy
We have a long way to go but we should still aim for the fullest possible development of every human being. We can achieve this by making some form of democracy a right for all people. The principles of democracy and human rights can be applied to many human relationships and are not restricted to… Continue reading Human Democracy
