Let’s Celebrate

Whew! What a week. I’m still buzzing from all the activity–don’t know when I’ll settle down and I’m back to work tomorrow. I intend to work seven days a week until the fourth manuscript is finished; and, given the hectic pace I’ve already established leading up to Feast of Chaos’s launch, I should be able to maintain my energy until the manuscript is complete. When the Muse slaps you across the face as she has, recently, with me, it’s best to ride that wave for as long as you can.

Now, if you’ve already opened up your copy of Chaos, you’ll notice in the interior that the dedication is to the: children, poets and protectors of Geadhain (the readers). That’s you! I always say this, though it bears repeating: we are where we are in life though the miracle and kindness of strangers–and those dear to us. So book three really is for you gals and guys. I hope you love it; and from those of you that have touched base so far after devouring the novel, it sounds as if you do!

But I also wouldn’t be where I am without the support of my partner, who has been my inspiration, coach and among my greatest fans. Today is his birthday, and I thought I’d give him a present, a prelude to his birthday celebrations, with what graces I have.

The Secret Whisper

A summer tryst

An evening’s bliss

Not more than a kiss

We shared

On that first night

A slow burning fire

Lit first by desire,

then simmered to steady flame

I found my love

As you hopped and shoved–back

The clutter in my heart

When you were done

There was mostly sun

Only a dash of gloom

A darkened cloud

Of these ancient fears,

come before you and I

When that weather rears

You kiss my tears

And whisper in my ears

Against Nature’s loudest


Before we became

I would’ve forever remained

Whole, but not complete

At last I know

Of love so old

As stars and wishful moon

Perhaps the Sisters were the wind

The murmur in the sky

To whatever prayer I made

That brought you and I

To Love

–Christian A. Brown, 2016

Some context: ‘hopping’ is mentioned in the poem, because my partner is an above the knee amputee, and I think the moment my heart broke and then came together for him was when I watched him hop around my apartment one morning making breakfast (and a mess, which was easily forgivable despite my ‘Virgoness’ and considering how hard he was trying).