I’ve Been Asking

Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶

In late fall a few years ago I had the pleasure of hosting the diminuitive L.L. Barkat, a woman with a contagious laugh, a love of poetry and instigator of the Mischief Cafe (among other things.) The Mischief Cafe is sort of a traveling road show with tea, toast and poetry. Laura and I had…
Vashon Hardware, Vashon Island, WA Rudyard Kipling begins his classic “If” poem, urging me to keep my head when all about me are losing theirs, and I’m certain my head–and its grey matter contents– will soon explode for the sums and ciphers impinging on the brain space I. do. not. have. This is a necessary…
Across the pencils pointed skyward like so many word-wielding swords past the gray and steel of overflowing desks filled with orphaned papers stashed, crumpled askew over the carpet-bland, sturdy, useable home to small and hopeful feet to the doorway–closed. Through it comes life and noise and limbs, any moment now– eager hearts, chattering faces, souls…
I was thinking, Father, yesterday in worship, with my hands upraised in prayer and thanks, how like a container I’ve been this week. Empty, needing to be filled, a hollowed out space hollering for help. I’ve been stuck, stagnant, stewing by myself drowning in unmoving water. And you showed me, Lord, how like a…
Four thirty a.m. The “chree-chree-chree” sounds in the far off greeny bog. “Whis-tle” “whis-tle” “whis-tle” returns the call, floating notes through the open window. A chorus of chirps and cheeps overlap like leaves in a pile at the singing tree, all the feathered throats announcing– messaging, instantly– a new day never-been-done day, it’s-another-start-day. So I…
One thing the world needs is for more people to read poetry. Especially from female writers of a certain age who identify as people of faith. I hope you enjoy this small round up and take the time to read more of their work via the links provided. You will be richer for it. It should…