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The Sound Loaf
The Sound Loaf Evolution or God (perhaps one and the same) finely grinds the meal ever so slowly while I cannot breathe with the dust in the air. But there will one day be understanding with the digestion of the bread. . . . The wholeness of the grain so nicely baked till the…
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If School Is To Keep. . . .
The Newborn. . . The infant balls her fists and pounds the transparent air as if her fists will give her strength enough to break the frustration binding her to an indifferent world. Where no one exalts the intelligence she came with nor the energy to make new and make a difference in this…
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To Use These Hands. . . .
To Use These Hands. . . . As dawn breaks, my fingers of both hands curl about each other and I marvel at their slimness, their ability to elicit the feel of themselves, each digit wrapped around the other. And I think that nothing, no other world will ever make me feel such blessedness as…
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Love Embraces All Worlds. . (without exception)
(this is my Christmas card for this year 2015 to my readers and loyal supporters in time and thought to my efforts in my blog. May you have a meaningful holy day or holiday whatever your persuasion. There is no misunderstanding when heart speaks to the each heart.)
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To Embrace The Essence. . . .
To Embrace The Essence He was a young man when he went up to the top of the mountain and a very old man when he came down. What he saw we will always wonder but how close was he when he embraced the essence of God. It was no mean feat we…
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The World Needs Christmas. . . . . .
Let us hold the candle. . . . . .
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Christmases Past
Do you hear?. . . . Lifetimes lived secreted behind the woolly 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 retorting icicles, crackling fires and laughter. And the…
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The Past is Still Happening
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…
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The Journey. . . . .
(they were hard years, but those times when we touched hearts, ahhhh, those were the golden days.) The Journey So we pitch our tents on the side of the quiet river and look for landmarks in the morning. It has been a full day, rafting and wandering through the rapids hoping for a…
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Chance Encounters
Chance Encounters You cannot accommodate an attitude that sees only the good without giving notice to what the other is doing in laying garbage on unsuspecting shoulders. It is a real gift to be able to give voice to an Other’s most cherished beliefs but neither does it give them tools to withstand life’s disabilities…