We desire what we have never known. "In speaking of this desire for our own far-off country, which we find in ourselves even now, I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency. I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you—the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like Nostalgia and Romanticism and Adolescence; the secret also which pierces with such sweetness that when, in very intimate conversation, the mention of ... Read More about C.S. Lewis Addresses Desire
Ours Is A Story of Repair
Ours is a Story of Repair Ours is a story of repair. We came to it broken. Torn images, missing scenes. You remember a red butterfly. I remember yellow angel trumpets. We wanted honey. Bees were everywhere. And they stung, never the same bee, never the same reaction. We made our own hives and stored our questions. Did the daisies pop up on their own, or did we plant them? If our stories aren’t the same, which one is true? I remember baby ducks hiding ... Read More about Ours Is A Story of Repair
Who God Designed Me to Be
Song of a Bruised Camellia Whether I’d like to admit it or not, I’m not the flower everyone thinks I am. I am not the flower. I am not her. Not that one. I am another one. Whether I’d like to admit it or not, my fragrance is not the one most preferred. I’m not that fragrance. I’m not her. I am another one. Whether I’d like to admit it or not, my petals are not those pristine orbed pillows Prompted out of hiding by the dappled shade of spring. I am not a gardenia. I am a camellia. ... Read More about Who God Designed Me to Be
Grandmother Thanks Little
The Woodcutter's Daughter Long before the Grimm’s brothers shut down their law firm, and owned up to their art, I shuddered swiftly from shadow to shadow, the big bad pursuing. To where? For what? All I knew was to hide or keep going. Yours was a story slipped from God through me, through my mother, through her mother through the mother before, erupting first through Eve. Just like Eve, I hid behind the moon white gardenias, longing with bruised desire, waiting for its scent to ... Read More about Grandmother Thanks Little
Intents and Purposes excerpt (pg. 3)
Yellow. The suitcase is as close to yellow as any other color. For a surprise, the sisters wrap it with ribbons. The brothers scratch blessings in its yellow side. The lovers latch arms. This is why they think they are strong, why they believe they have power. There is strength in their arms. They embrace everything. Lift much. Carry more. The way is surprisingly rough. She doesn’t mention the presence of hillsIgnores the ruts, sees only small declivities, no ditches, no peaks, ... Read More about Intents and Purposes excerpt (pg. 3)
Intents and Purposes (excerpt pg. 2)
She knows nothing. Less than nothing. This is what she knows. She has agreed to what she does not know, to what she believes will be easy. Something black. Something white. Knowing she knows nothing happens later. This is now. Now she does not cry. She leaves her weeping behind. Behind is whereher weeping remains. A ring is slipped on her finger. A circle of gold. And then on his, his hand is also captured with gold. Pictures are taken. Pictures help with remembering. Nothing is ... Read More about Intents and Purposes (excerpt pg. 2)