For many years my restless spirit has been crying out to express itself, yet it speaks not with boastful nor brash words shouted from the roof tops. It whispers with a higher, more conscious & meaningful voice. On an ordinary day I sit considering my soul, what is it that it yearns for? I feel a wave of confusion, accompanied by flutter of excitement, so I reach for pen & paper. As I stare onto the vastness & blankness of the crisp white pages, the cogs of my clogged up mind