The introduction of body trauma at the age of six draws ghosts and demons out of dark closets, like a ruinous rush of children onto the playground before someone gets hurt at recess by falling off the monkey bars because, given the chance, words can become tangled and powerless to prevent this spring morning day to come crashing down around any intentional steps taken beyond the timbered bark confine enclosing the days games.
Category Archives: Poetry
My poetry. Mostly Collects
Heavy with rain the faces of daffodils lean down to rest on the wet ground.
I will remember their sin no more. – Jeremiah 31:34
Rememberer, who writes with a finger of fire on our forgetful hearts, do not depart from us when we no longer look back on the days that are surely coming, for we cannot see what is written there on the hearts of others and, confused, continue to confound remorseful contrition with wounding indifference. Amen.
apokatastasis panton
Loneliness is not an issue when we're born into litters. God chooses things that are not to reduce things that are to nothing. Meaning can be found in the land beyond where stone writes on stone. Create and record the task placed at the center of your garden.
And again…
01/01/21 - 1 dead, 3 wounded in Castleton-area shooting Bang, bang, you’re dead. Thoughts and prayers are said. Again, thoughts and prayers are said. Thoughts and prayers are said, again.
And more…
I wondered, "Have we ever considered following the Hebrews into the Wilderness?" Not missing a moment, she responded, "Not until we are promised something mesmerizing and unique." I remembered a recent lunch. "Didn't you say those same two words to describe the pizza we shared the other day not long ago?" She replied, "I guess I am on a roll. Though I have been thinking about adding welcoming and wonderful to my descriptive repertoire." I smiled and, with my tongue in my cheek, said, "That would be a wonderful and welcome change." Pretending to be upset, she replied, "Go ahead and try to bear my burden. You will find that a new creation truly is everything." Smiling, she added, "And more."
Let the Story Lead Us
Ham radio conversations have morphed the story into internet bulletin boards where the temperature of ice in Iceland can be shared in real time with the beachgoer building sand castles in the Keys. Storytellers of the past share their best as any faith demanding this much explanation to a foolish person needs to be withdrawn from the public realm before too many heads are lost to the people erasers. Friends join and then withdraw membership taking all learning to bed by making white papers on topics esoterically rich while overlooking the reservoirs of luck and the stories written to blindly believe without thought. On gorgeous days when rain bubbles the pond surface and no one bothers to show up for prayer time even the turtles descend into their holes to avoid discovering the difficult way of sharing a story of peace.
Pairs
ordinary space discovering place sacred migration low infatuation return to local unravel the political new hero persons progress worsens vied vulnerability heightens civility modest proposals mine disposals being story creates category needing another ...every other
chattered mouths breathing birdsong participate in g*d's world offering new narratives with ancient composure questions where are we what's next why normal fall like song into lament stories grieved long ago new chapters pass with each new era becoming the next burst bubble making sacred ordinary
“…but the people became impatient on the way.” Numbers 21:4
God of Snakes, Snakebites, and Antidotes, who turns into bronze to be lifted on a pole, such weird ways can be found in the wilderness. Is the sin of impatience worth death? Look upon us as we look upon you to raise us into life from this place of being bitten down. Amen.
A Thread You Follow 