Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
I was thinking, Father, yesterday in worship, with my hands upraised in prayer and thanks, how like a container I’ve been this week. Empty, needing to be filled, a hollowed out space hollering for help. I’ve been stuck, stagnant, stewing by myself drowning in unmoving water. And you showed me, Lord, how like a…
Lovely Lydia dipped cloth in indigo dye, dressing royalty in the Kingly color of the day. I am wrapped today in color of another hue~ scarlet red~ covering me in impossibly laundered linens purchased by the Savior King who died descending into darkness, bursting forth in a blaze of Color That is Not– Purest White.
We were made for Eden dwellers with God in his greenglory and goodness among the vining wonder and fragrant trees. We came from dirt creation, witness to his filling of this face of the earth with his endless imagination named “witch hazel” “flowering quince” “red currant” “sweetbox.” He charged us as caretakers of His Garden, resident…
Several weeks ago I made a foolish, self-centered comment on someone’s blog and clicked back a few days later to see if there was a response. When I re-read what I wrote, I sighed at my words and simply hit ‘Delete’. I felt SO relieved. Then I wrote this: Thank God for the “Delete” button…
Dust hovers unsettled in sunlight, threatening to land on patterned grains of tables at rest. I observe the suspension of noise, remember the activity: buzzing, rising, howling, softening. The children are gone. It is time to put things in order. Restack the books, ensconce the trinkets to their pride of place, lay out the careful…
We have a mandate to leave no child behind, Yet we are educating children not left behind, But left to die, escaping with their families and their lives, The clothes on their backs and a lifetime of images they want to forget. So we attempt to educate them– ‘educate’from the Latin-‘to lead out’ Lead…
Well, it seems that way anyway. Clean and all. Open, blank, unwritten on. And the smashing white/blue sky is limitless today. How unlike our skies to be that way this day. But it is (a gift! Thank you, God.) SO, making the most of a Beautiful Good Thing I will do what any ordinary human…
The tonnage of this load exceeds all legal limits; the bridge cannot be crossed. Its crushing weight of granite grief will split the spans and send you spiraling down. Unless (and I am no engineer) the load is properly distributed on this barren, buckling asphalt, heaving under the pressures of your shattered, tear-stained hearts. We…
Josh Groban is heavenly hollering “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” The sweet and gentle resolution of the violin and oboes slows me down to hear your soft love. Not the out loud from the rooftops kind, but quiet as the roots of a tree digging down in the dark, seeking support where we need it….
There is no flower on the zucchini–I guess there will be no more fruit. It is time to put the garden to bed, as Margaret says. Fruit only comes in the right season and we are not to be always producing. there is stillness, rest, tearing out, covering up (mulch helps). There is quiet, it…