Monthly Archives: March 2014

Regret

Down deep in the gut beneath all probing lies the hard hard rock once ill`conceived undelivered ever 

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Branches

Like branches of a tree our lives connect root to bud & like those branches we seem ever blind to all that has been all that will be 

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Fog`Light

Fog turns streetlights soft hours before the dawn Each lamp boasting a halo around a hopeful portal opening at last on nothing 

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Waiting

The wise farmer lets the field lie fallow He knows it is not wasted space or time but Sabbath rest Divinely designed renewal Healing not of action but of reflection 

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The Mystery

The man stands by the rest`room door neither entering nor leaving At his side a doctor’s satchel and an old sleeping bag A knife in hand 

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The Story

The story falls like stone into still water of quieted lives not like the stones thrown on the air designed to hurt this tumbling stone heals

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Memorial

We pause at invisible crosses remembering our dead Those we loved more/less back then who look across to us now with the old haunted harmless eyes of children  

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Time

Toffler said time halves with time Yesterday’s minute is but tomorrow’s moment Already the weeks race by like days Except for death

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At the River

At the river we gather to pray Light the Christ`candle Consider the way leading over

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The Plow

The plow moves along the furrows Cuts deep through sod grown hard by the winter Not winter only Seasons

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At Dawn

The sun still lies under the blushing horizon But everywhere little things already stir as though to embrace his resurrection

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Trinity

The road The direction The company Such is the mystery of the journey that leads us to home

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