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For the reader, this book could be a journey into the author’s mind, his heart and sometimes even his soul–full of defining moments–a peek into the man he’s becoming. And for him, this is a journey that began and remained in a dream for nearly 40 years. Not quite awake, not quite asleep, but definitely and always–present. The journals that were the landscapes he painted with words of passion, of love or fury, but never indifference–were also the buffers that allowed an intensely private young man full and safe expression. A few of the poems he shares are simply whimsical. Their substance may be felt like the fluffy feathers of a down pillow. Something soft and cool to lay your head on and feel pleasantly OK. For him though, most of his poetry feels and looks like the rings of a once handsome, but rugged tree. Not cut down, but only momentarily exposed so as to share–not its own, but nature’s history and gifts of beauty. The author begs the reader’s indulgence in allowing him the outpouring of his bilingual spirit on some of these pages. The inspiration that flows may look like a florescent yellow cactus flower in a sea of white Spring lilies, but where the heart goes, the pen just follows. Like this book, he has opened himself up and invites any who will dare to meander through his sometimes quirky imagination. Now, no more the guarded, reserved dreamer, but a wiser optimist and a realist–at least every other Tuesday. No teacher is he, as the majestic brother Wolf, but the mythical Coyote prankster whose many plans and schemes often cause him to flail and fall only to get back up and try again to sometimes succeed in the light of his efforts. Dear reader, this book is his way of giving thanks and giving back by sharing with complete abandon, for all the pleasures and sorrows, and even each breath we take for granted.
