All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               There are seasons in life, like seasons in sky, when little of sun or spirit show.  The light is hidden, veiled, and though it exists unseen; one knows that it is there.                In such season, men go silent, distant, and in solitude and contemplations make restoration of the flame, unseen, behind guard of […]

               Dawn appeared as muted melancholy, morning energy unfelt for many weeks—grey skies and slow fall rain that made dimple-marks on shallow puddles spread before his view—rain, even as little as it was, that would sustain much in the stressed earth around.                There was no wind, and the air held damp, still and cool.  […]

               “Have you ever tried to read a book, over and over, again and again; but never make it far into?”                It doesn’t hit.  It doesn’t speak.  It doesn’t fix your attention, make you think, seem to leave an effect at all.                 Then…maybe from different vantage, moment, state and place in spirit and […]

               In bow of the boat, air rushed fast over Kiely’s form, in press and blow over front and face as she looked forward in sight of path and chosen line ahead; and then, turning back, the wind on back and a pocket of stillness made for breath and rest behind in body’s break as […]

               “Maybe that’s gift of the meek,” he spoke, “to sense the unsaid, discern the unshown; recognition and affinity toward other souls that seem, in way, similar to ours; an understanding outside ability to explain, but to know and believe it so.”  He paused, cautious, aware to vulnerability in such speaking, and followed, “Then again, […]

               White dust rose in wake from limestone road as he drove the two-lane road bisecting fields and tracts of land in neat square-mile grid.  Crops told themselves by change in colors, row spacing, heights, and leaves.                 Corn shone in thirty inch rows, leaves dark green in upward column rise, levels of leaves opening […]