Sometimes I guilt myself right out of joy. Like the surprise of an iridescent butterfly from an unsightly cocoon, who would expect this shimmering show in morning sunlight? Eyes are trained on Northwest firs framed in blue, frosted feeders, feathered presents hidden among the trees. I’ve held my breath, wondering. Did my mother ever ponder stilling herself, take a moment with the birds in her … Continue reading Gilt Gift {a #poem}
Bed askew with straw, rummaged leftovers of the menageries’ last meal. A stone space quarried like the heart of a small ark, opening just enough to cradle the straw. The stall, open planks no match for the midnight chill, gaps lasering light, streaming in on stone. Mother draped in simple cloth, teenaged hands trembling as she lays her infant in the place of the animals’ … Continue reading Plating the Bread of Life {a #poem}
Light is coming she’d heard and read, and widowed, she had nothing calling her name but His across the years like an echo from The Garden so long ago. She’d been seeking (was He hiding?), steadfastly determined, for what else was her life but this–an always looking in the temple courts, trusting the doorway would be darkened some day when Light came into the room. (sharing from the Archives) Continue reading Anna Waits {a #poem}
Susan Cowger confesses she was the ‘black sheep’ in the family, not quite fitting into the mold of family vocations–nurses, pharmacists, sensible people. Instead, her first language was art, a calling that led to a BA in Fine Art (1977) from Montana State University and subsequent MFA in Poetry with a secondary emphasis in Art from Eastern Washington University in 1997. Susan is a sculptor, … Continue reading Female Faith Poet-Susan Cowger
“Where do people put such things when they live by Plan? Our entire plan is simply Miscellaneous.” -Gladys Taber, Stillmeadow Seasons, 1950 Last Sunday was our first time back in a building to gather and worship for church since March of this year. I refer to that time as “2020 B.C.” as in Before Coronavirus. Guided by our pastor and staff, we were properly spaced … Continue reading No Anchor But Jesus {{#backtochurch}}
I’ve no chisel but this pen chipping at paper like stone, carving words, not to build but bend graphite like steel, curve the bones (Dear God, not break) but lay in place and then form a space to hold a new edifice, sculpt and rest and tap some more while You hand me bricks to begin, restore. *** The word contemplate is from the Latin, … Continue reading Contemplate {a #poem}
Blue Door Sapphire welcome says hello at the start of day I walk and wonder. Wisteria Dropping amethyst Translucent emerald trailing Reflected treasures Haiku for Spring Drops of see through gems moisture gift drips slowly down Silvered honesty. Accompaniment Devoted songbirds Daily raise their melody No maestro but Spring. Aerial Hummingbird sips blooms From windows I spy each zoom Birds in lilacs appear I’ve been … Continue reading Five Haikus for Spring
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com Birds, their tones both winged and bright Harmonize from branches out of sight Know their parts, score memorized Flash and zoom before my eyes. Soprano, alto, second, bass Throaty praises from branchy place Echo, float, reverberate A pause, then celebrate Mornings’ rise first slow and quiet Against dull backdrops now a riot Their songs a span of treble and bass … Continue reading Accompaniment {a #poem}
When Washington State brought the country’s first case of novel Coronavirus to the US, we had no idea what had begun. While the sudden deaths of loved and aged family members was a shock, the nursing home tragedy was still an hour and a half away from where I live. Things moved quickly, tho’. Suddenly the virus was way too close to home and there … Continue reading Naming our Losses {#lifeinthetimeofcorona}
The overwhelm is real–create anyway. Continue reading When You’re Drowning in Words