• My Poems

    Accompaniment {a #poem}

    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 Background my day, this hallowed space. ***** The daybreak song of birds seems brighter and more clear than ever before. Have you noticed? I tried to to capture their music ((impossible)) by playing around with meter and rhyme. I hope the joy comes through the…

  • My Poems,  The Church Year

    Celestial Bodies {a #poem}

    My weary eyes need reminders to view the galaxies aright. Focused on the sliver of moon, they forget an entire orb hides in the dark. I gaze at dull concrete, traipse around the observatory, past an entrance where God stands in the doorway beckoning me to peer, Galileo-like, past roofs, across trees, into velvet sky. As feet pause on sure ground, a whisper beckons to dream above, beyond to distant beauty. Consider the immeasurable heavens inside, reckon my need as I’m handed a telescope. Brightened eyes rest and remember. This poem was written as part of Poems for Ephesians, an online project of D.S. Martin at McMasters Divinity College. I…

  • My Poems

    Advent-Waiting {a #poem}

    shadows smudge on the wall beside me, gray on red as I look up, pensive, pen in hand to write. how to right this over indulgence, too full of my own bloated worry? I’ve buried my prayers, fed one saturated heart with cares not meant to be carried. fasting from the thoughts that also fill my brain seems a lifeline in this season where we’re drowning in too much. I shut the door, shutter the blinds and feast on silence, making space in my waiting for the gift to arrive, though it tarry. it occurs to me, that like the Christ child’s birth, answers may look far different than I…

  • My Poems

    Conversation {a #poem}

    What did I do to deserve this? is the wrong ask. Because you didn’t. Do anything. There is no quid pro quo/cash economy in this wide invisible, Kingdom-filled world. The sunlight searching between oak leaves, the slant of green on the birdbath, chime of silver in the breeze. It’s all gift. Like the sloppy kiss of a two-year-old or an unexpected letter in the mail, you are worth surprising. Don’t quibble with your questions, paint your Creator God as an if/then Saviour. He is a because/when God. Because you are mine, I will pour out my gracelings when I want, to whom I want. Just look up from time to time and…

  • My Poems,  Poetry

    Dayspring From on High {a #poem}

      The Christ, as yet unchristened. The Word as yet unspoken. So His Mother announced instead, He has performed mighty deeds with  His arm; He has scattered those who are proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones, but has exalted the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things But has sent the rich away empty. He has helped His servant Israel, remembering to  to be merciful, as He promised to our Fathers to Abraham and his descendants forever.” It is written. It is said. It is done. Before our Lord’s first cry, we’d already won. ***** Mary’s song is from…

  • My Poems

    Grandson, Summer {a #poem}

    The raspberries–your favorite–ripened after You’d gone, the sun’s August denouement Leaving a subtle ruby postscript like pendants Suspended on green-edged strands. Gentle tugs released the jewels between My fingers then traveled to my mouth. They were (almost) sweet and needed More time for sugaring. Had you been here To share the waning warm days’ treasure I could have held you, too, before you Grew into full fledged bloom, walking into The world seeking your own fruited fortune.

  • My Poems

    Leafworks {a #poem}

    Like the bound bud in the almost bloomed magnolia, there is life ready to burst, tight secrets on the God side buried within these cool, bright days. I’m waiting, watching, counting the sleeps until a quiet wonder world awakes. Amazed, I waltz between the longest watch from each dormant doorway, through the chill and darkened mornings to a heart like an open gate. Ear cupped, poised for my next birth, I linger for delivery of the morning’s message– free and God-breathed– a silent, green unfurling. ——-

  • My Poems

    Prayers, Lost & Found {a #poem}

    This is the day I found my purple gardening gloves. Not all purple, mind you, but leather on the business side, lost in the melee of home projects, outdoor-type, stashed behind the paint cans and spackle, under the eaves, out of the weather. Irreplaceable, thank you. “No honey, I can’t just wear your gloves, they’re extra large. I want mine….they fit. Like a glove.” This is also the day I found the black peppercorns–16 ounce plastic container from the Big Box store. (and why do we need all those peppercorns? And how did such a vast sum go missing?) Eyes alert for something else, I wasn’t even looking for my gloves. Imagine the silent leap inside…