Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
The Scent of Water** and the ticking of clocks is keeping me awake. the fragrance drawing me to the well of the Word, the Giver offering refreshment for my soul. The time keepers clicking through the dark marking the minutes– telling me twice, “take of each one” “make of each one” the most that you…
I was so looking forward to 5 days with my sisters and close friends for my birthday, celebrating my big 6-0 in an extraordinary way. I reserved a place at the beach in Southern California, my birthplace. My head was filled with imagining the familiar sights and sounds, the walks on the beach, the fun ahead. I had…
Rain has not fallen on these parched hills for months– bowl-shaped reservoirs speak of want and emptiness, shrunken camellias stunted in place mark the space formerly known as a garden. The hillsides are brown, a paper bag folded flat. Trees hold leaves, but distressed they are– hanging on, sending roots deep seeking moisture to live….
I’m in my son’s backyard with 3 of the Littles….2 ½, 4 ½ and 6. We are trying to beat the heat—-in a wading pool the size of well, you know, a wading pool. Twelve inches of water have been splashed down to eight, there is bubble wand residue floating in and among the grassy…
This is just to say we could not eat the plums– they were so many pyramided together in plastic, hailing from casa de Costco where everything is sold in bulk. We could not eat the plums. unripe as they were– purple/black skins yielding to (very) firm yellow (oh! not sweet) flesh. We enlisted children, yea…
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~…