The Image of A Pearl
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 ...
Regrets
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 ...
Giving Up
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 ...
What C.S. Lewis Said
“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 ...
Prayer of an Old Chimney
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 ...
Daybreak….
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 ...
What Eyes are For
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’s challenge
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 ...
A Second Chance
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, ...
Relying on Others
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 ...
What a Great Day to Be
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 ...