All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               He stared, frozen, in recognize of overt sign—symbol, plain and clear, on cover of the book.  It is strange the way, when one opens and enters into the Spiritual, how spirits answer.                 For every force, there is equal and opposite reaction—test and measure of the soul. In seek and find of God and […]

               Another game, another day of city drawn in upon itself; little outward signs of life in hours of time when such was on a screen.                From vitality of night before, parks and walks and city’s streets became again their own, eerie of way when strong collective thought brought outward life to close, drawn […]

               She sat at table in open room and wait for the sun to rise.  Coffee beside; book, journal, and pen before, she waited for inspiration—moment-burst of idea’s appearing.  She would write it when it came which, through trial and time, she learned came most often with the sun; in daylight’s break in orb from […]

               “But sometimes—rarely, but magnificently—there comes a day when you’re open and relaxed enough to actually receive something.  Your defenses might slacken and your anxieties might ease, and then magic can slip through.  The idea, sensing your openness, will start to do its work on you.  It will send the universal physical and emotional signals […]

               She sat cross-legged in burgundy gown and musings beside the hearth.  Knee of high-crossed leg vertical in pose as under rested folded to floor beneath.  Fall of gown caught and fell in valley of lifted leg.  Nothing beneath, in pose, she showed faint in poise of rest.                She knew he saw.  She didn’t […]