Why

Monday, March 30, 2026

Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.

Let's talk about why.

I rarely go personal here. Wonder Fell isn't a memoir or a self-help guide. It's not a coaching manual or advice. I'm no guru. I'm a poet whose experience of adult life was Hell for no fault of his own.

A chronic auto-immune illness, Sarcoidosis, took the opportunity of a decent life from me. After a decade of fighting just about full-time, I beat it into remission.

Recognizing the value of time, I went to work doing what I love most: Writing. Non-stop.

It was during the time of Co-vid. I put together an anthology of poetry to give to the world.

One morning while driving to one of my favorite spots to write and work on its publication, an SUV travelling over 50 miles per hour broke a double yellow and drove into my driver's seat and lap.

I woke up three days later in an ICU with a host of internal injuries, my left leg split in two, and a medical team waiting for me to remain conscious enough to operate on.

It took me a year to learn to walk again and another two years to fully heal all the nerve damage from the crash.

In the meantime, I worked: On Wonder Fell, On New-New Hampshire, on Colore.

I've known I'm a poet since high school. But what the Hell is a poet supposed to do in America? Work for Hallmark, teach University, or pick up a guitar and start a rock band.

I considered all three, but accepting any is an admittance that poetry is not enough.

The Ancient Greeks, Milton, Chaucer, Blake, Shakespeare, and so many other great minds that helped move civilizations forward disagreed.

There's more to poetry than University classrooms, Pharmacy Card Aisles, and lyrics for popular songs.

America's never had an Epic Poet; I had to make my own way.

Wonder Fell is an Epic Letter Poem sent to the Creative Spirit of a Friend every sunrise.

Hey friend. O/ Thank you for reading and sharing it.

I've beat death twice, scientifically so. I believe I've been able to because my dream to share words with you is so strong. And maybe the message inherit in these lines can matter that much.

Humbly, I believe it can.

Beauty, Hope, Love, and Joy... the stations of Poetry are what's missing most from my Country's monologue.

And so, from your life.

There's no self-help, guru guide here... Wonder Fell is what's missing.

Art, Music, Life alive! Where are you? As of late... where are you?

The volume is turned up too loud on the radio to hear the music. That's the state of The Arts in America, at present.

Let's paint, draw, write, and sing tribute to quiet worthwhile moments, to the beauty of a sunrise.

I was writing about why and personal reasons before all this inspiration showed.

You see, it's a journal of a poet whose only had hope and his desire to share words with you his whole life.

I've been through the worst; it's why I share the best: That's how we rise.

Words worth beating death twice for the chance to share.

I hope you find inspiration here. Life really isn't worth much without it.

Go ahead and have that wonderful day, it's up to you, after all.