Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
Golden oil in a bottle liquid light refracting sun in shimmers a mirrored shape reflects on the surface and I wonder at the drop, drop, drops of light as they drip, drip, drip down. All this tasting joyfulness because something was crushed and pressed, leaving light.
Redondo Beach, CA I was about 6 I went looking for a photo today, one that’s embedded in memory from happy times at the beach. When I found this essay I couldn’t help notice God’s continual message to me–He is always speaking, and the word I’ve been hearing him whisper these days is “Trust.” Six…
This post is fifth in a sporadic series on a book I’m reading that is changing my life: God in the Yard Spiritual Practice for the Rest of Us by L.L Barkat. This is not a book review, per se, but perhaps a book invitation… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’ve ‘marked out a temple’ (L.L. said that’s one meaning of…
“…… to believe that hiddenness is part of presence. I know that some say Sabbath is just about God, that it’s not about resting up to be more productive, that it should not mean “nowhere goes somewhere” because we shouldn’t be so focused on the “somewheres.” But I believe that’s exactly …
This post is third in a sporadic series on a book I’m reading that is changing my life: “God in the Yard“, by LL Barkat. This is not a book review, per se, but perhaps a book invitation…The author writes early on ‘smallness permits attention,’ and I am starting small, stitching together my Sabbath times, sitting…
the lights have left the leaves, golden brilliance turned out like a glowing candle quieted by the wind. the leaves float and rustle, voices, too, carried by the breeze to this place atop a hill– a slanted receptacle for sound forcing it upwards to my ears. I’m hidden–He’s not. I hear Him. He’s here.