Micah Park Biffle

Do you Water your Seed?    Plant a seed in the heart, a seed of good intention. Each day, water that seed. Water it with good intention. Whether that intention be a smile to a stranger. A hug with a friend or a burst of laughter shared or in the presence of self.   But good intentions are not without struggle. For often in our road of healthy intentions comes distractions. We forget our intentions for the day, in the moment we are flooded with rain or are in a drought.   But here is thing, we control our weather. We control how these storms flood us or how these deserts dry out our hearts. We are the gods of our stars, our skies. What we wish to see in our stars and feel in our storms, is our choice.   As much as it is a choice to listen to music or watch a movie. Some, must fight harder, some are in constant waves of dreadful pain. Some are held to the grips of depression and some are held to manic swings.   But in my days and in my meetin...

The Earth to The Wicked     There were no more schools of magic. No more rules, no more laws. The wicked have taken over and the good have been driven to shadow realms. Schools of magic are now the harboring homes of the wicked.     Where spells that were once locked away forever, have now been broken free. An abundance of black market spells are now sold daily on the streets. Passed from one witch to the other. From one evil wizard to the next.   Mages and magical creatures of all types, evil that is, now walk with power. With frightful anger and revenge. The world is now a breeding ground for the evil. Ghosts, beasts, and vile creatures of magic walk the streets openly.   Murder is no longer a foul act of the law, but a mere act of greed. Each wicked heart taken by another, purely for more magic. For more strength to be the ruler of the dark skies. It is forever winters kiss as long as earth is held in the grasp of evil.   No flam...

Are we  of God and Devil?  What if, we are but pieces of god? Our soul be of the heavens and our flesh be of hell. What if we are but pawns of opposition to each side? In constant struggle to appease them. Each wanting us, all of us.  The heavens cheering for our soul and hell cheering for our flesh. Hell, waiting with mouths wide with teeth sharpened and coals burning. Waiting to make us an army of its devout creatures of temptation, greed, jealousy and hate.  As heaven weeps for us in our faults and prays we lead with our soul. Waiting for us to consume the waters of our heart. Hoping we choose wings over the walking of our feet.  What if, in our death, whichever side we acted more generously upon, we are given to that which we devoured more? What if, in death our souls can rise to heaven or become tied to our flesh forever? Forever chained to the misery of agony of pain as we are stretched from limb to limb in the pleasures of the devil.  W...

A Neon Murder  The neon lights flood my view, fluorescent pinks pour from the city. I stand looking forward, watching as she spins around, singing her own songs to the midnight city lights. Her silhouette curves so well with this neon strobes.  A fantasy like aurora floats about her. I can feel her lying next to me still. He warm skin, her soft lips pressing to mine. It is wonderful to be so lucky, to have someone so perfect. As she dances I smile, feeling the moment glow with happiness. She's dancing alone and I her audience. Applauding with my heart and admiring her with all my senses. She is a brilliant take of life, of creation meets imagination. She is the dream I always wanted. Her hair bounces in the light, like strands of silk gliding against the wind. I call her name softly, she stops with grace. She spins herself toward me. She leans on the bed with her hands and smiles. We look to each other and my heart becomes wild. It's as if this moment will last ...

Finding Love among Ships   They are two orphans from two different towns. Both searching for that something else, that little bit of hope that will change everything. Both sixteen, both left to the hands of the state at the age of six. Both families unknown, children in the wilderness of abandonment.   Cold, dreary hearts they have. Always staring from their orphanage window. Watching each sunset and sunrise. Feeling a sense of claustrophobia. Both screaming for a chance to be free and soon enough they find that freedom.   On an October evening, just before the sun rests. They both unknowingly each had a plan to escape. To wander off into the world and fend for a new life. Both found a way to rid the orphanage, at least for one night and many more to come.   On this October eve, they both executed their plans. Sneaking past the staff they reached the outside of the orphanage. Passing through the gate and touching the street for the ver...

                                                        From the Rift Came the Witches   The rift opens, expanding from another universe. The witches of Malgnant pour from the rift. Ripping through it like dolphins breaching water. Residual fluids from the rift drip from the witches bodies like saliva. Its black contents fall to the ground.  Creating smoke to rise as the droplets burn whatever they touch. The witches, flooding from the rift snarl and laugh maniacally as they circle me. Singing old witch song and taunting me with their presence.   I can feel my skin crawl as they come from the rift like swarms of insects. I stand almost defenseless now, for I lost my staff. Without it, I have no ability keep casting spells. Surrounded, I do my best to ward them off with what little magic I have stored away in...

Father and Son,  The Hunting of Beasts  It's early morning, before the sun has even touched the horizon. Humid mist covers the jungle floors like blankets of clouds. You can't see what's beneath it, so you must keep to the known path if you wish not to be bitten by anything poisonous.   As I walk down the path beside my father, I rub my eyes with the hand that is free. Adjusting to the glare of our torch. The moonlight is gently falling through the cracks of the canopy. Its soft cool glow always warms my heart.    I look around as I walk and see the trees that sprout hundreds of feet high. I wonder what it would be like to live up there? So many creatures and animals have their own world above the ground. Most never even touch the earth.  Carrying my bag on my back I shrug my body to keep it from sliding. My father, the man that he is, his size allows him no struggle as he carries his bag. Shrugging mine, he looks to me and says, "...