Someday I will probably have to split my life story in three. One titled darkness, and the other light…and the one that falls between will be somewhat a grey area…where the line between there and here is so thin, they intertwine, mingle and shove me into a murky trench. My story will tell of the journey from one end, the stop in the middle, and the glorious emergence to the other side. Of these two sides, are poets who touch me deeply, Sylvia Plath on one side, and Charles Wesley on the other.

I am not writing about Plath today. Fine poet she was, her influence on me will not be forgotten. I write about Charles Wesley, another poet who was not superhuman, note it…he was mortal like us, and so like us he lived, and died…he had his own journey and if you pay attention to his works, you’d…