Blog

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I woke up this morning with the image of a pearl in my mind: a tiny sphere brought into being by an irritating grain of sand within the house of a muscle… a space where competition between a ...

As a young woman you seemed a red flame in a kind white field.Your eyes orbed, magnetic, Gathered me in your wind –blowing blowing blowing through the cracks of me. I, a reed, a chime, a ...

I’ve had an ongoing internal conversation about Lent prompted by a World Vision Video. I wonder what it means to sacrifice. It seems like the word sacrifice implies a painful relinquishment. In ...

“She’s the sort of woman who lives for others – you can tell the others by their hunted expression.” ― C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters ...

Oh ignored Carpenter, Over-looked Yahweh, Thank you for givingme what my smoke-filled eyes mistook for loss. For sustaining my conflagrating arrogance until every defining board, every weight-bearing ...

there is nothing so besotting as the slow release of daybreak — bright patina seeping from the sun swollen armsspilling out to a sleeping world,waking, informing. Consider Jacob, a mere mortal ...

In order to see the speck in your eye, I align it with the self-pixelated grain of the beam in my own. Unless I am exceedingly familiar with the warp and woof of the beam’s bark in my eye, I ...

Today I suggest you might consider which idealogical Group you would most like to be a heretic among and image the kind of bouquet you might bring to the gathering. Though an assortment of flowers is ...

Wrote about her once. Quick words, scared onto the page. left her on the edge of a river. skirts hiked up past her knees, Didn’t say how far. Didn’t say: past her thighs, past her waist, ...

The setting sun flanked by conical clouds looks like melting candy corn and for a moment looks like becomes is. Of course, it’s not candy corn. She knows this but does she know this? She’s ...

The Man WatchingBy Rainer Maria Rilke I can tell by the way the trees beat, afterso many dull days, on my worried windowpanesthat a storm is coming,and I hear the far-off fields say thingsI can’t bear ...