When Life is Like Ice Skating
(or at least the ice–well, of course, the ice!)
Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
Thank you, Jesus, you came to The average everyday of us, Chose dwelling in limited space, Smiling your vast smile at our Smallness as we reach for our evening beers Down at the local, Baring our souls as we join heart and soul With our friends. You sit back and rest with us in our…
orange trees from the orange grove where my husband was raised, Yorba Linda CA. I bless thee, Lord, because I GROW Among thy trees, which in a ROW To thee both fruit and order OW. When thou dost greater judgements SPARE And with thy knife but prune and PARE, Ev’n fruitful trees more fruitful ARE….
Something has been said about “writing down the bones” which sounds like a good practice if you’re learning anatomy. But the first time I heard the phrase, I thought it was “writing down the poems,” So I am. Writing down the poems moving my bones, the ligaments lightly holding the pen– black on paper, blue,…
Prayer at my desk over pasta reminds me I’ve been away from this place way too long. This familiar pathway back to this quiet corner with Him– like a trail worn through the woods towards home or a boat returning to anchor in the harbor. It’s this Presence I remember, the sweet rest of…
A child (surprise!) yours Daughter (ignored) called out one Sister (competing) the apple of your eye Bride (terrified) loved Mother (novice) protected Teacher (trusting) …
There was no faithline, no family promises passed on through prayer. Only a bloodline from Creation’s start, scarlet thread bound and wound together, a cord the color of life, made by a Weaver who dyed it red with blood. Woven with the loom of love, a lifeline coming my way~ a cord in the window~…