Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
Scattered seeds, scattered me
strewn across the landscape
like the leftovers of an exploded fruit.
Full of me, I dropped the pieces here and there
along the way
without the time to STOP and listen.
Father, retrieve my prayers.
Draw around them the frame of your love.
Gather them, grow them
hold them……share with me,
one at a time,
in your time,
the answers.
~~~~~~~~~~
In late fall a few years ago I had the pleasure of hosting the diminuitive L.L. Barkat, a woman with a contagious laugh, a love of poetry and instigator of the Mischief Cafe (among other things.) The Mischief Cafe is sort of a traveling road show with tea, toast and poetry. Laura and I had…
I never dreamed one day I’d be parsing a picture book explaining to five year olds that yes, a black man was shot by someone who hated him because of the color of his skin, and before he died he had a Dream for children just like them. After the story (required), they—with their earnest,…
The feeder hangs swaying, no avian fellows alighting. (males are the brightest; why?) I wait and watch–they’ve flown I wonder where–for food? Will their shimmering yellow return, a harbinger of the lightening days ahead? Indeed, one by one, I know they’ll come hungry again (still) as they’ve done year after year finding food, flying beauty, feeding me with their…
Ivy’s on the corner with her papers and her change. I stop, she chats and I cheer her on As she shares this chapter of her life Titled “October through February,” Bringing her to this sunny corner in May. The lines on her face tell a story Like the layers of life in a beautiful,…
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.
heart potato from my garden, 2020 Potent works of art we are molded by God, thrown on the wheel, mud at his mercy. Shaped and used as He wills, fired in this earthly kiln– refined, His glory glazes. Empty vessels, He fills us, to water others with love, slaking their thirst. Sometimes we leak through…