Quotes from john j geddes

Light a campfire and everyone's a storyteller

I knew I loved you when I kept trying to run away and find reasons why it wouldn't work

Your skin is transparent as distilled moonlight

I'm a man of stone - and my hands are not soft enough to brush away, each stray wisp of hair

your moods and colors are my climate, not the changing face of the sky

you cannot teach art—you cannot make a soul

There must always be a secret to be unwrapped at Christmas—that's the rule

Your steady rain of words soaked me to the skin

my soul has shadows – nooks and crannies where griefs, like cobwebs, collect

put out the candles with your fire—I'm on fire

suffering breaks us until there's nothing left but gentleness

we compose our life in stories we tell ourselves

the struggle is not with others, but within us, to do what we are called to do

yes, writing is mostly a dream, but angels visit in dreams

I play a piano of words—its icy tinkle echoes through your halls

I see you kneeling in church—stained only by colored windows

You can be taught to write – you can't be taught to be an artist

you are a ring tone on the phone I didn't answer

after life has broken you open, perhaps you may create art

I will not exorcise you—I'd miss your fragrance, the soft tread of your step on the stair

fingers of wind combed the lake into ridges—icy palm prints glistened wherever it rested

all day long, one storm then another—and I take your hands like gentle flowers that blossom into awareness

I love watching you – you're a silent film of gestures

I am a bed of sparks you breathe upon and kindle