Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
I wanted to write like Annie Dillard away alone aware– not here in the middle of this city/suburbs life. Leave the concrete and multiplying cars with their inhuman noises, seek a vista, a vale of color and light, to inspire and bring forth words like a flowing brook across quiet pebbles. But I’m here in…
A mystery, really–these mute carriers of a collection of qualities known only to humankind. The sway of the valise, a pendulum of skin-covered appendages, the flip of the handbag: back-side, front-side, side-side synchronized while hiking the concrete sun-filled hillsides up to the top~ View Just Ahead. Oblivious to said view in their busy ant kingdom…
We’ve been informed we are flying at 29,000 feet (approximately) above the face of the Earth, suspended (how? by speed, lift and whatnot) like a moving planet jettisoned in a line moving at the speed of sound (light?). Refreshments are served, secured with invisible payments traveling via plastic and magnets swiped by staff standing still…
The feeder hangs swaying, no avian fellows alighting. (males are the brightest; why?) I wait and watch–they’ve flown I wonder where–for food? Will their shimmering yellow return, a harbinger of the lightening days ahead? Indeed, one by one, I know they’ll come hungry again (still) as they’ve done year after year finding food, flying beauty, feeding me with their…
Prayer at my desk over pasta reminds me I’ve been away from this place way too long. This familiar pathway back to this quiet corner with Him– like a trail worn through the woods towards home or a boat returning to anchor in the harbor. It’s this Presence I remember, the sweet rest of…
When God insisted on Winter I think Jesus chimed in and invented ice skating rinks (or at least the ice–well, of course, the ice!) All that whirling and twirling jumping and spinning going on. Pratfalls and crashes and grown ups and children whizzing by and falling– re-upping their bodies umpty-million times. Fun and risk and…