Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
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…
Red in the blueberries, bidding farewell to the season Red on my table, my plate, and in a bowl (a bounty of tomatoes–all shapes and sizes) The red Cardinal Flower, last blooms in the garden Red near the park as the maples mark the cooler days And the best red I’ve read…
I glance up from my desk at the Infographic I drew last year. It’s taped to the pencil holder. “One Year with God”I wrote across the top. The months are drawn in small squares around a hub like spokes in a wheel, a cycle of moments, days, weeks all adding up to a…
Classroom photo, mine. 2012 “Recess teacher!!” That would be me and anyone else over 3 feet tall who has a whistle. “Hey guys, just so you know, my name’s Mrs. Collins”, flashing my cartoon-y fish logo with my fancy-ish name. “What’re your names?” “I’m Atticus, this is Zeppelin.” “Well, those are some pretty big names,” I…
Twelve minutes after two the blinking red face confirms as I waken wondering, why? I was so very tired and now I am N O T. the pulsing numbers push me back—a book, a bowl of cereal, a bending black case with another glowing face and I click and read, peruse the people saying something I…