Poetry

My cough appears each hour with the annoying regularity  of a political ad. Its persistence is wearing me down. The election is over,  the advertisements are gone. No more enduring the monotony of a grating sound I do not want to hear. (did I tell you I have a cough?) I did my part–voted the…

Many corners of the interwebs are echoing Jesus-followers to be more intentional about pauses in our busy days and find a Sabbath rest. In this season of my life it is more and more difficult to engage in such a practice. However, I woke up the other morning and heard, “find Me in the In-Between”,…

The thermometer affirms our arrival at Autumn, the droplets on the deck declare in dew that the air is too cold for the water, changing it to liquid on the glassy,  warm surface. I wonder, does the Living Water perform the same miracle when it touches my heart? do change….

Writing comes from listening, so I’ve taken quiet steps outside away from the loud  to hear better. Eyes open this time  to see AND hear–this– the delicate drops of fuchsia,  ballerinas fluttering like so many upside-down firecrackers, fragile, full of beauty dropping feathery tendrils to the silent air.

I just saw three chickadees stun themselves, Mama Bird watching from the patio post, hopeful their wings and their wisdom would coincide with the air. They collided instead with the window I see through now, fateful  glass a barrier to their flight and freedom impeding the discovery of their birdy selves as creatures made for…