THE ROAD YOU CHOOSE

The road will always lead to a destination,
Some wander paths of doubt and adulteration.
Many travel only through affiliation,
Following crowds without true contemplation.

Whatever road you choose, let it earn your admiration,
Walk it with purpose, not merely obligation.
The road has many turns, choices, and connections to see—
Choose the one that leads you to the person you’re meant to be.

• November’s Gentle Memories
• The Canvas and I Are One
• What Is Seven?
• After Emancipation, We Still Live in the Dark
• The Heart’s Chalice

• Try Before You Cry | A Sam Tumblin Spoken Word Poetry
• THE SHADOW WITHIN | Spoken Word Poetry Performance by Sam Tumblin
• THE PIANO BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH | Spoken Word Poetry by Sam Tumblin
• WHEN RIGHT BECOMES WRONG | Spoken Word Poetry by Sam Tumblin
• Wanderlust | Sam Tumblin Spoken Word Poetry

• November 2026
• October 2026
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• June 2026
• May 2026
• April 2026
• October 2025
• July 2025
• June 2025
• May 2025
• April 2025
• March 2025
• February 2025
• November 2024
• July 2024
• April 2024
• March 2024
• February 2024
• October 2023
• September 2023
• August 2023
• July 2023
• June 2023
• May 2023
• March 2023
• February 2023
• January 2023
• December 2022
• November 2022
• October 2022
• September 2022
• August 2022
• July 2022
• June 2022
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• April 2022
• March 2022
• February 2022
• January 2022
• December 2021
• November 2021
• October 2021
• September 2021
• August 2021
• July 2021

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WHEN THE HEART IS DRY

Why is there a drought when there is rain?
Maybe it’s an empty heart consumed by pain.
Numb with tears and burdened by fears,
Worn by the weight of so many years.
Bathed in sorrow, with none to borrow,
Seeking hope from friends tomorrow.

Perhaps one day the drought will embrace the rain,
And wash away the lingering pain.
A heart once hollow will bloom with love,
Blessed by the light from above.
The numbness will fade, the tears will cease,
Replacing fear with lasting peace.
With open hands and an open heart,
Love will flow and healing start.

But until that day comes again…

Why is there a drought when there is rain?
Maybe it’s an empty heart consumed by pain.

All That Glitters

Is all gold good, as many allude,
Or is much of it dirty, disgusting, and lewd?

Perhaps it’s the way it was acquired—
Mined, bought, or won through blood once admired.

The value lies in how it came to be,
Though few will ever know its true history.

Yet beauty still shines, sifted and aglow…
Is all gold good? Only the heart can know.

Into Your Eyes

Into your eyes, with quiet intrigue, I look,
Longing to reclaim the heart that was forsook.
Once I held it gently within my hands,
Now we drift apart like forgotten lands.

I wish forever offered one path back,
Before our love slipped through each growing crack.
Too many mistakes and too many wrongs
Silenced the place where we once belonged.

Yet I still wander through yesterday’s light,
Where laughter danced from morning into night.
Those moments of love and tender bliss
Remain the treasures I’ll forever miss.

Forever is the burden I now bear,
A lonely soul wrapped in black despair.
I have learned that some dreams cannot be,
Yet love and emotion refuse to leave me.

So here I stand, with hope grown thin,
Holding the echoes of what might have been.

But now…

Into your eyes, with quiet intrigue, I look,
Longing to reclaim the heart that was forsook.

Into the Dark and Peer

Many walk within the dark and peer,
As if each step draws near the end of a pier.
Some move cautiously, burdened by fear,
While a faithful few press on with purpose clear.

Many turn away before the path is known,
Haunted by shadows they have never outgrown.
Yet why retreat from what you fear,
When courage whispers, “The way is here”?

The moon and sun revolve as one,
Each yielding place until the day is done.
Darkness and light are forever intertwined,
Teaching strength to the searching mind.

You never know what waits beyond the pier,
Until you dare to draw yourself near.
For sometimes hope is hidden where shadows appear—
So look within the dark… and peer.

Granules of Gold

Granules of sand were the gold I’d pan,
Scattered gently through my life’s span.
Years of sifting, searching each day,
Watching countless grains drift away.

Many were carried upon the wind,
Loved ones and friends I cannot mend.
Their voices linger though they are gone,
Echoing softly with each new dawn.

Yet there is comfort the heart can hold:
No grain is ever truly lost to the fold.
The winds keep turning, the seasons roll,
Guarding fragments of every soul.

Perhaps one day another will stand,
Patiently panning with hopeful hands.
And in those quiet grains they’ll find
The gold we left for humankind.

For every life, though brief its stay,
Leaves something precious along the way.
Like hidden treasure beneath the sun,
Waiting to shine when the searching is done.

“The greatest treasures we leave behind are not buried in the earth, but in the lives we touch.”