writing
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I’ve been exploring what inner authority feels like now, at seventy-three — learning to let the many parts of me listen to one another instead of striving to lead. It’s the same balance I’m seeking in my art and writing, especially in my poem Tether of Knowing—how do we honor the edges and still find
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Uncharted. Understood. I’m always scouting—sometimes for direction, sometimes just to listen. The aftermath of chaos still hums in the air, carrying fragments of lessons not yet named. I don’t mind the uncertainty anymore; I’ve learned to trust the movement itself. There’s a rhythm in every cross-current thought, a pattern beneath the turbulence. When I pause
Parker&Creative 