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Refuge In Dreams
In the beginning when I was young and when I was very cold, I took my mammoth skin and drew it closer about me and found refuge in dreams. Like a tourniquet it stopped the flow of life out of me. Now I am old and I huddle still deeper in my woolen wrap.…
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A God Work
When we write our own personal ambitions out of the picture, we kill all illusions. I feel kindly toward illusions and see them for what they are. They are the finery with which we dress all the dailyness, all the scullery to make it not only bearable but to elevate it also. That is a…
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The Homecoming
My warm breath makes a circle of clear space on the frosted pane. I gaze at empty horizons willing your outline to appear to give this day extra measure. You move into view with water pails swinging, from shoulders whose strength I know by heart, with strides cleanly cutting the knee high snow, effortlessly. I…
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My Exhibit And Reception
FEBRUARY 10th AT 2 P.M. An exhibit of my work at the Oak Park Arms in Oak Park, IL. 60302 408 S. Oak Park Ave. I will have my wall quilts on exhibit in the hall gallery for purchase and also my books, Kiss The Moon and The Last Bird Sings will be available also…
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A Fable and A Lark
Adam arrived and called Eve to join him for dinner. She did and they feasted well in the beginning of the great deep. Together they cavorted and played and made love while merry. Cain and Abel arrived and the merriment ceased. They bickered and fought and competed for their place in the sun. The gods…
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Let Us Vow
Let us vow. . . that when we cannot share our brother’s Light. we will hold the candle as he makes his way up. Let us vow. . . to embed love within our four walls so that our children will be instruments of Peace. Let us vow. . . to love one another so…
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December Confirms The June Woman
It is June and I stand poised on the landing of the half circular staircase. I am hearing the strains of the Canon not heard in this, my lifetime. Shocked still, caught in the shadows of half remembering and yet reluctant to confront the shaded memories, I wait. She is visible, the young woman gliding…
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Christmases Past
Lifetimes lived secreted behind the wooly frames of memory. We jog the frames of Christmases past. Scents of pine boughs and holly berries, mince pies and cranberries. Sounds of apple crisp snow and crackling fires, and laughter. And the sound of silence, as love stretches through all dimensions to encircle Thee and Me. As real,…
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Times Such As These
I lock up the room after filing the last remnants of words laying about unattended. Fearful that pieces of my heart may be found scattered among them. And why not? Times such as these leave us with little salve to heal the open wounds which once were hearts. For whom do we weep? The children…
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time’s past
crystal chimes strike porcelain ears, seizing time from memories, past. the music heard from times’ near past, tangles in the wind of muted sound; and we live again.