Declan

Derived from the promise of loves truth
cherished with uncompromising depth;
born into a family willing to expand...if not just one more time...
Not an exception;
exceptional from that moment on

Extraordinary friend, capable of bearing faults
shouldering sorrow with ease and compassion

contagious laughter
infectious smile

The gift of knowing when it's time
when it's not...

Defined by vested boundaries, ones that expound the drive
for the better
honesty
virtuous love for life
consistent zest and exhilaration - utilizing a non stasis approach

Why not?
Should it breech the darkness
pressing light into the corners
infusing help
when others would shirk the responsibility of their fellow man

Most feel fear
where he sees challenge

Tasting to savor
never to gorge

Wonder reflects the eyes of sea blue
making the moment of reflection that much sweeter

Harmony when the path is littered with conflict
Refuge from an otherwise emotionally consuming world

Meant to live to touch lives;
offer the latitude of faith

Providence
provides the best descriptive word, if I had to find a singular title

Loyal, relentless friendship, a brother when times get tough
no matter the direction...

Just darlings of chaos; storm busters chasing the elusive dreams of the morrow
stopping to stand only to lend a hand
along the way

He closes the story not yet completely told with eloquence and wit
thoughtful respect

Thank you for being yourself and loving me
as is

-Happi day of remembrance
wishing you the love of the world and all of the good things that it has to offer
Serenity when the cast is blue
Peace when you meet your life's partner

Before the Saint came
Declan loved Theresa
and to that end, anything is possible...

Blessed days to all,

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer
Saint Andrews

"Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis."

And I should know such cold as to draw in winters breath at a time when summer broaches the horizon

The season of telling existence

Would the world bow weeping at a tale sobering and tangled?

For the years lapsed,

rebuilding offered the only respite

I could be a million miles abandoned and feel the pang of sunlight in absence

Endless days of perseverance in witness to contempt's' breech of truth

Scarred for the passive apologetic(s) who would capture the right in lieu of honest hardship

Facades are arson to justification

Reaction, afterall is symptomatic of origin

Spoil the battle weary and bloodied

Negate glorification of those drowning in veiled squander

Reciprocation of loves endurance is the preventative measure;

ingredient to avoid latter blame

And I should know such a glorious story told

of passion riddled with anguish to better fold in a blind enemy

than vest a friend less respect...

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Adeo ne hominem immutare ex amor, ut non cognoscas eundem esse

Pennington to Sawyer upon leaving the Heathers...

Excerpt from novel two, in the Pater Nostras Series "93 Kilometers to the Better"

"To the better" Are we? I believe so. You alone brought we two into the Dire providing me with so very much more than I had ever hoped to achieve unilaterally, much of it at incredible personal cost. All I might offer you at this point is my truth: I am your end; that I love you further than even I am presently able to see. What is done now is for the both of us, what is needed.

Be compliant for the time being as I will be the man expected to be.

Is it possible that a man can be so changed by love that you could not recognize him to be the same?

Should I look away as I read your novels and disregard the similarities between myself and Delcan McDaniels?

Watching you and witnessing the darkness casting over your eyes of light amber I find clues how it is that I might gain the knowledge to unlock the keys to all that is kept from the worlds view.

You fight impossible battles to realize wins that are relevant in some deep seeded way that I know nothing of...

Such is the complexity of our relationship eh?

Pending thoughts plaguing we two; what the future may hold for the immortal, navigating our way through breaths exhaled

inhaling the air of the unknown amongst those who'd never comprehend what type of world we exist in on this day.

As I glance at worn photos settling in my wallet of you, you and I, I can't seemingly recollect just how much time has past.

Our lives contaminated by internal, unseen forces are but ours alone to shoulder in this life time and I'm left with the wonder of how we came to be here.

Austin seems a distant planet upon my return from Scotland, is it not the same for you?

I take moments in the day merely to retrieve what was daily routine...

If not to gather a glimpse of that which became a familiarity, comfort to myself.

I held no concern of the inevitable, which has become a vice, nightly so.

I've resolved to simply close weary eyes and post you quiet notes of graceful thoughts...

Such as that cafe that you consistently speak of; desire to place your glass down and "normalize" the day broaching. You've spoken, in broad terms of displacement; feeling the break of self worth and ostracizing...

I never fully understood

until I faced her with accusations much in similarity to those faced by you in your darkest day.

No one desires to be singled out for imagined infractions of the soul.

I ache for you honey, with evening that closes I find no comfort in the darkness that approaches.

Be well in all that you do, remind yourself that you are not alone in this that engulfs us on the present, on the morrow.

We are riding the wave of promise, let that tide you over for the time spent apart.

My God did that sound as lame as it did inscribing it?

I place pen to paper in trepidation knowing full well that as a writer/scribe you read me as text traveling on a tangent unknown to this novice.

I return to you soon; somewhat broken down by the distance, it is my fervent hope that you vest our love and hold it to steal the pain when I am unable to be there in place.

From my hand to yours,

love not completely told,

Ethan

When you're away

it feels as though each thing surrounding my being is lessened in color; vibrancy, though

your constant berating has, admittedly taken a considerable toll upon my spirit. While it is truth that guidance is very much a part of what I require, it is also a bitter pill to swallow.

As our lives unfold I begin to trust,

something that does not come easily to me.

You ask why it is that I am repetitive in experience and choice.

The response isn't in reference to behavior modification, it is merely state of mind, a mind lost deep in thought-

residing in country of another

I see you Ethan, as the better days of my life long. Desires of which I have plenty, have become secondary to dealing with the demands of the day present.

I fall, get up and begin again falling silent onto deaf ears. That is what happens when no one readily hears the cries of the small child in ones soul.

I could not decide to live as a mortal only to find yourself and I waking on the morn as immortal.

We chose a destiny, yet it beckoned.

I'm beginning to hold the belief that it was Garrison and his family who chose we, not some fluke in my research of the Garrison effect.

I'm well aware of life's toll taken on you, your circumstances have become graven with the ash of the Heathers.

Nights drag themselves out endlessly as I ponder needlessly when I should be productive in further research, writing.

You reference Declan as though I should take pause in effect; this I cannot do for you...

He became relevant when no light deemed itself worthy of shining upon my face.

A needed reprieve when providence took an absence, a pardon for being caught between the here and the morrow.

Know solace in that I won't falter though thoughts, as yours, plague me of doubt.

I'm far too young to not seek success; cross lines that only those who would stand when the winds of Heathers swirl...

Into your arms I do so fall,

from my hand to yours,

Sawyer

After a non convincing week full more of trepidation rather than capitulation I'm looking forward to a week of work that fulfills.

Don't live in regret, find your way and make a path where there was none before.

Don't speak ill of others if you haven't heard the song that plays in the background of their lives.

Life is short, the word 'can't' is a shovel.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

John and I are going to release an unedited version of the novel "93 Kilometers to the Better" to a select few, signed for those who have been collecting. Thank you for the interest!

Running with the Saints

You wouldn't know me from a face in the crowd...

unrecognizable even to myself these days

Sunsets close the days as they come

and come frequently they so do

more and more

or so it seems

I'm accused of wandering in thought

when I should be clear and present

the only vacation that I take

in the times

that I live in

I'm summed up in the bottom of this glass;

smooth

burning as I glide down

ice left melting

diluting the remains

daring you to drink

just one more time

Cut my anchor

awhile back

much to everyones disdain

life is what we make it

I made mine from a crumpled pirates map

Felt the need to seek

unclaimed treasures

yet to be found

by the likes of someone such as myself

Islands provide sanctuaire

to my relief

no regrets

change is wild; free

storms are better witnessed from afar

Front door is painted red

much like Irish of old

to better find my way home

Stumbling through this side of unknown...

fearless

curiousity my sail

wonder to see you standing there waiting

for me

Always knew that you had a vested interest

you merely smiled handing me the keys to the door

opening a new chapter

to re write

edit

and make our own

Hard to ever know what precisely to do

Other than this tired old map

to guide

compass the way through

Coming home can be as difficult as leaving

for scrappers

who fight for daily wheels beneath their feet

the road beckoning

burning rubber, miles when I can

It's all a whirl

blurring vision of sights that I should take the moment to see

no time though

busy at finding what I can, where I can...

I feel for the boundries

if only to jump the fences, break the cages

heard the call

some time ago

warned that I couldn't

took it as a dare

Soared

no other way to fly

high

to the limits

of why nots

laughing at the faces

turned in awe

"I could do that...thought to awhile back. Just didn't have the time to spare"

It takes friends, a small crowd growing into a gathering

to propell dreams

into the morrow

Closed down for the nay sayers

heading out

stopping in luckenbach, stretching my wings

with the other Saints

where they dare to be unique

no excuses

Building one stone at a time

a home that will sustain

insulated

durable with times erosion

Heading home

welcome mat

announcing that my feet are welcome

not judged by the runnning the race

"He who wins the fight is he who wants it more"

She wanted it more, simply didn't want the fight.

So, I'm hanging up the boxing gloves and doing what's worthy.

Time wasted is forever lost...

I wanted to thank John Brodrick, you really helped me out this week. Donald, Doug and Sam couldn't have managed without you all. Bert, I didn't forget how you stepped up- thx.
Feel good about what you're doing. Try and remember that as you judge others, so to are you judged yourself, and you just may find yourself in similiar circumstances.
Learn compassion, and don't take a fight on that is driven by emotion only.
Have a great week!

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

(Malak)

porcelain pirates

And by request, this is for you my dear friend...

He was a Saturday night that stormed into my life...

Looking across the room the first thing that I noticed about him was his stance; strong, determined.

Lance to my Guinevere, his gaze finally meeting mine in an appreciative manner.

We meandered around one another for quite sometime, although in retrospect I've no idea why, he certainly wasn't timid in the least.

Eyes of the deepest sea took me by surprise, the fact that he never wavered didn't serve to intimidate me;

merely seduced

as it was intended...

From the first, we fit together like an old pair of favorite jeans.

Those initial weeks that brought us together were so wonderful; loves first strike ever so powerful.

I suppose that I should have revealed the broken promises that bore upon my shoulders,

I chose not to

feeling that loves tenderness would somehow heal me

A traveling man

he'd not be mine on the daily

the distance brought me disdain, this I kept vested

Didn't desire to stir things up

Until I could bear it no more...

I missed him...

I longed for his touch

so much so that imaginary scenarios began playing; weaving its resounding insecurities over, over again

until I was convinced

that he was not true in heart...

I met his family

lovely

they embraced me

mine

when I should have been reassured

I only heard treason

Not what I had wanted

planned

but I threw punches into the air

Punches he felt

in the gut

the gut that was telling him to back up

leave the words in the air to kindly dissipate

He wasn't a boxer

didn't want to be in the ring

not with a woman who'd profess to be his souls best friend

confidant

I'd cry

a million tears

that drown him into guilt

to stay

if not for just a tad bit longer...

I had a lost and found box

hidden under my bed

believed that he'd find it

know what to do with it

unfold the papers that held my inner most thoughts

collect them

read

and edit

for the purpose of alleviating the pain

Should've recognize that he didn't find roller coasters chalk full of excitement;

they were for children

and childhood he had left far behind him

it was time that he planted seeds of his own

procuring a future

I'd catch his dismay as I looked into his saddened eyes over the rim of the self medicating beverage kept neatly in my glass

messy really, in truth-

after 2 or 3...

self deception crept in a few hours past

when he'd simply have laughter flowing, carefree, secure in who he was

I felt myself slipping

away

I wanted to scream "why are you doing this to me?"

"I need you to make me feel your love"

It would be a time

before I understood that it was merely because I could not hear

see

what was right in front of me

communistic destiny

he tried to map out

for he and I

I refused to leave;

yet required his stay

no compromise in sight

my heels dug into the sand

funny thing about sand... constantly moving along with the wind...

destabilizing all that is built upon it

I wanted a home

while denying him the security of friendship

the lasting emotion needed to create, solidify

I remember seeing his face light up

as a boy would

hearing others voices on the phone

calling to remark

this, that, the other

I couldn't understand

comprehend

that his life was, in actuality complete

before I

that he had in fact

saved room

just

for me

I raised the stakes

arguing in the middle of our time

I saw it slipping away

couldn't reach out to hold him inside...

I wanted the bellow to cause the rush back

instead I felt wrath

childish, impishness attractive at first

came as straws on the back of a camel...

His back was breaking

because

I

wanted

to

be

right

love remains the same

I'd rephrase

a million times to the once

that I meant it whole heartily

what I said with my actions,

well,

was leave me to be

who I had become

porcelain

beautiful in so many ways,

delicate

easily broken

yet durable

if you followed instruction

Not so for a man

blazing his own trails

rambling

because he is a masterful pirate

with a heart of gold...

I loved him you know?

I struggled

until doubt darkened my senses

lashing out

turning dreams into mere memories

beneath my feet

He wanted to marry me...

I never understood what that meant to a man like him...

He had his ship sailing

knew what ports where compatibility embraced

he didn't bleed

wounds hadn't scarred

a joy to know

befriend

I crushed

seeing the worst

when the curtain didn't reveal; when I couldn't see across the miles

I needed to know

grasp

lies

when the truth didn't provide the race of proof

that no one could fulfill

the void

that I had dug

left wide open

to bear

as the burden

to attract the knight to spare me self examination...

His love fell through my hands

I spread my fingers

while professing that I'd never let go

of the strong hands

that wanted to place his life in

I conjured hurricanes

shattered mirrors

blinding my eyes

to his tears

shed in disbelief

I rewrote history

his

story

to make a villain

out of the hero

who loved me so mightily

accusations of infidelity

rushed judgements to my closest friends

to validate

when I should've simply asked

I slandered

I wanted one more time

one more

first

He left

knowing that I'd never change

I'd find another cause

another row

to do battle

to win

suicide blond tendencies

he'd remark

hated when he was right...

On the inside I'm torn between

knowing that I've lost the one truth in my life

by admitting

or

running along the sand

believing that he lied

broke his word...

Pictures deleted

memories washed away for another time

another man

who would believe in me

when I'm not certain that I can believe in myself

again

I wish that I could tell him that I'm sorry

sorry that I ran away

left

what could've been

so perfect

so beautiful

I'm not your love

yours any longer

I shoved you away

fought when I had nothing but burden weighing

couldn't admit that this isn't a fairytale

and he and I

aren't a story

to read

smile

at the end

close the book

sleep comfortably

I buried my king

loved

lied to

betrayed

no, this was a tale...

better to be told in the rain

less you see the tears streaming down my face....

I lost who I was

bearings tangled

Providence

is not mine

to hold...

I hurt him, holding on to what I thought he should be

not who he really is

and who he really is

is a man

who loved me with abandon

Until

I

abandoned

him...

As he walked away

for the last time

he exhaled

the breath that we once shared

disappearing into his tomorrows...

Perhaps

perhaps he was right all along...

what good did it do me to cross over the line and paint a picture of negativity

when it cost me

Everything...

Lance to my Guinevere, doomed from the beginning of the tale

because in my kingdom

the King will never be enough...

the battle will never be won

the walls

too high

the ransom

a far too large price to be paid...

........................................................*......................................................

Heartbreak is the worst feeling. Here's hoping that your days are filled with joy and kindness.

We all make mistakes, as long as we learn from them- well, as hard it can be, we do get better, succeed where we never believed possible.

Nothing is unattainable

as long as belief doesn't waver...

For the record, because I become swamped with e mails/responses believing that everything I write is a personal record to my daily- know that as people share their stories, in finding some compelling I tell their story.

I believe firmly that we share the ability to learn a great deal from one another, and hopefully we recognize the frailty in human nature, forgive, cherish the people that we've known in our lives.

Even the bad provides us with a unique window in our responsiveness to their actions or lack there of...

Enjoy the week,

look forward to seeing Dallas again (shortly)

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Semper fidelis (always faithful)

There were times, yes, when I held the belief that help would not arrive soon enough to ease the onslaught of sorrow, inevitably to come. I stayed...frozen on that dock, the dock just beyond the pavement of my childhood homes' touch, waiting with great anticipation for heavens will to yield its answer onto me.

I couldn't have been forsaken.

Not at this juncture.

When the initial dreams swept over fear consumed .

I wanted to run, not out of negligence mind you; but out of sense of loyalty, loyalty to the life led thus far.

Not desiring change I remained steadfast in the belief that the calling had been meant for another, surely not one such as I.

Who was I after all to take on the responsibility of heavens will?

Yet here I stood, waiting for further instruction...

Where was the one that they'd send?

No one here but a lone fisherman, a bum by immediate appearance.

He turned, speaking to me in such a manner that it was obvious that he was not of this place...

From there to here I listened with intent; the mysteries of the Dire unfolding before me

I had heard whispers of the lycan many years prior as a young boy

many a sleepless night spent restless by the howling some where off in the distance...

He spoke of her...

She who would come to render insight and help to further the cause of locating and eradicating the general population of the disease of the Elder

I truly didn't wish to open my mind to the possibility

of becoming their warrior...

I realised love; seized it

And that had taken a lifetime to accomplish

I was to risk it all to raise heavy sword in hand

wield the years of self to slay what heaven itself could no longer control

A birthright handed down generation to generation

now resting in my hands

simply

but with great resolution

I nodded in acceptance

what else could I do?

I silently prayed (as I took my leave from the heavenly apparition) that she'd find it in her heart to comprehend what I had been forged to do

she'd know faith in me

as I held faith in her love...

Faith.

It's all we have sometimes...

#################################################

He wasn't my white horse.

There were days, days like today where I fell to his feet in tears of frustration, not knowing what I could possibly utter

to make this alright

for him

never me

because he isn't listening...

My life was over quite some time ago.

I live/survive purely on borrowed time... this I've known for many years.

I thought to apologize before I left yet again, but to what end?

He'd eventually find me and claim to have changed, forgiven, he'd steal more of the time running through the sift of now

The perfect thing to say

just when I needed to hear it

I suppose

The past is gone, or so I'd respond as my soul ached for a righteous path to cross over to, to redeem all of the waiting

knowing the outcome would surely rob me of a present

destroy all that I held onto

currently

He often questioned my faith

faithful

not faithful

somewhere between obsession and the stir of a drink

I had to explain things I honestly didn't/couldn't understand

I ran for the coast

dreamt about it once or twice

saw the blade glimmer etched in a battle that seemed to be of an esoteric nature

this opened volumes of past pages read in the novel playing in my mind nightly

one by one

the clues would lead me to the blood stained dock

if only I could find the place just now, I'd have a momentary block of trepidation

I raced like a bullet across the beach sand, hated its feel, loved the waters welcome

I took pause to weep

I'm faithful I thought

painful to be under the gun

shot to this point

but I'd go

he needed my help, that was the directive

I always followed where ever my dreams led

yeah

the fisherman told me that this was the place

I didn't want to be the fugitive here, restless and looking for aim

but there didn't seem to be a choice

this was heavens will

made decisive yesterday

or at least half way

it fell upon my shoulders suddenly, with a thud.

Heavens brightness blinded my eyes

I blinked

regretfully

he caused me to raise my voice in exclamation, never having the time to explain

my head turned

I suppose that's why I never heard; listened

The howling startled the senses

perhaps it was as always, canine running after me... an occurrence that felt oddly enough familiar to this setting.

I laughed as I recalled the legend of the lycan.

Born to be a werewolf surely, I thought.

Smiled as I intuitively knew that they were better kept to mind...

I wondered as I finally stumbled upon the dock, would he finally see my faith to its natural fruition?

Here, before me, was the script...

I read it

faithfully...

##################

excerpt from book 5, in the Pater Nostras series...

##############

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Kotah 21999

It occurred to me, as I sit down to write this, that no one but myself remembers today, 12 years ago.

It was a typical day, nice, cold out though. Went with my family up further North, in Maine to take a break. Shop, eat at taco bell.

I wasn't too hungry, couldn't tell you what I had to eat, but that I was happy. Motley Crue had been blasting on the car radio, the baby (inside of me) was bouncing around.

I recall thinking that he was going to be some kind of rocker...or at the least he had good taste is drive around jams.

That evening my back began to hurt, I felt ill ease.

By 2:20 am he'd be gone to this life and mine would be irrevocably changed forever.

I fought to die.

I never, never wanted him to be alone in death, honestly feeling that I had let him down by surviving.

I remember that the mere mention of his tiny body being placed into the morgue sent my thoughts directly to his comfort.

Had I dressed him in something that would keep his body warm enough?

How could I, in good conscious be at home while he awaited cremation?

Well, that was 12 years ago tomorrow.

Today I'm wondering... has his death held up its meaning?

It has for me.

I re read the journal set back in time, February 19th 1999...

Recognition.

In truth we haven't changed, only the circumstances have.

People, I find, never do really change, they evolve.

But the core of who we are remains, good or bad.

For years I didn't read what had been written; feeling that it wasn't true, just ramblings of an extremely hurt woman.

Today, I held the strength. Held up by the man who was sent to save my life.

When all seemed at the darkest hour he didn't give up, never wavered, simply loved...

brought the light back without un necessary pity or undue empathy

just did what a husband would do for a wife.

Made certain that he was there, loving me through it.

Dakotah would've been pleased.

He would've cheered me on for finally relinquishing and letting go and afford latitude proper to form a healthy and solid relationship.

That is a difficult line to cross, recognizing that when you truly, and I mean truly love someone you let go.

Give them the opportunity to know love, even if it is not derived from you.

Your heart can bear the pain if the one you love finds their soul embraced.

When I met him, I knew. He loved completely, hadn't the emotional baggage to dull his senses.

One of the first things...he placed his hands on either side of my face, told me that he had fallen in love with me and that he'd never hurt me.

His truth was me, he was mine.

As I lost everything, one by one, I stopped, took the time to remember that this was exactly how I felt when Dakotah died.

The loss was insurmountable, but my love for my son hadn't wavered.

I found a way to live.

I found a way to work towards my dreams.

Even being told daily that I could not write my novels, I went on to write 8.

I learned from him.

I never wanted his existence to not realize some type of potential.

We all need to remember those times in our lives, less we become destined to repeat failures.

If you had asked me 12 years ago if I had known...

I have no answer, other than I haven't the time to regret.

I do look on to the morrow knowing that the man who stands is here, by my side and isn't faltering.

There are no journal entries foreshadowing of a life soon lost to cruelty or misfortune.

Dakotah gave us all hope for the future, his brother came and established that the impossible could be

his sister followed and brought back laughter

So here I am.

Half of my life is beauty, solid, happy for the first time in my life.

Some days deeply saddened that I waited so long to know what real love felt like

The other half lies in stasis

held by the man who claimed to love eternally.

Apparently that only applies to conditional compliance.

Well my life is my own.

I imagine that I alone will carry on with the memory having been blessed with the time bestowed upon me

the knowledge that I used the memory to better myself and those relationships around me.

As my good friend John said to me "you can give away your happiness to those who would see you hurt, or you can turn away and live happily in spite of them"

I believe that he is right.

I go to his grave site on the morrow with no regret.

Only love for the son who changed my life for the better.

======================================

On a lighter note, we are having our first book signing in Dallas March 10th and former president George W Bush is to attend.

Very excited to attend and shake hands.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews