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Where Can We Go?. . .
Where Can We Go? . . . As the sparrow falls it is noted and the quality of life is diminished by one. Long ago the feathers were counted. The color of the downy beast was subtly painted into the rainbow. A child is born in the forgotten…
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Time In The Heart. . .
Time In The Heart. . . I was an oppressed people. I wandered long and became very tired of wandering. I hugged the banks of the green river and shredded lives of high caliber. Crying hard and loud I voiced irritation that rubbed edges raw. And soon I…
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The Lighthouse. . .
The Welcome. . . Come, we walk. Take my hand. Lean on me for a time to gain a respite for a work unending. I stand by you, ready to catch you if you fall. My arms are steady and ready. I will not stumble, so do not…
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To Richly Endow. . .
To Richly Endow My head swiveled when I heard the elder blurt out, ‘but you are lucky you like to pull weeds!’ I stared openmouthed because she was serious! I thought of the past hot week where the sun did not blink and the temperature and humidity hovered at ninety. Upon her arrival for dinner…
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For you especially. . .
The Roses Are For You. . . I tell you true. You were known before you came here to this vast land. A waste for some, a paradise for others, for one a dim place and for another the sun shines. You took upon your Spirit a work, a job, looking to make a difference.…
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Attitude of Gratitude. . .
Simple Things . . . There is comfort in the simple things. . . the cup of hot coffee in a favorite cup, the warm bathrobe, threadbare though it is, the slippers, warm and high around the ankles, the fire in the grate lit by a device with a flick of the…
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A Sacred Leaning. . .
A Sacred Leaning. . . When I understood the meaning of the words begat and borne and unearth and wrote this, I wept. It was then I realized that for me the poignancy of creating life was not so for everyone. The school of thought then was that it was all biology. Until we…
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This Road Traveled. . .
It was a very vivid dream and I wrote of it in detail. I was moving the garden hose on the front lawn and looked up and David was walking up the sidewalk. Oh David, you are alive and well I said, and he said it is a wonder. They make as many mistakes as…
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Little Mercies. . .
Little Mercies. . . Dickens said. . . ‘I wear the chains I forged in life’ For better or worse we forge them link by link. And I like to think they are good habits of ours that I call little mercies or the more common, tender mercies. I felt this many…
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Think It Through. . . .
Think It Through. . . All thought which holds the life’s crucible for an Other’s well being is prayer. Any conversation which holds the good of Others in its heart is prayer. ***** What seems like a tragedy in the absurd and obscure is indeed a well thought out and prescribed drama. . . oftentimes.…