Just a little violet in the grass, set to feast on sunshine, drink up rain, meant to bless the wanderers who pass, meant to live and thrive and then to wane. But how the sky could wander wide and free! And how the dirt pressed hard against the root! She tipped and drained the sky; […]
Read more "Greed"Another night stretched long trying, trying, trying– until finally morning drifted in– cool and bleak– as empty as their nets in the water. … Another command to cast again to fatigue, hunger, failure– words that echoed fantasy– trite and senseless– to experienced fishermen. … But, once more, they let their nets down down down […]
Read more "It is the Lord"Whatever it had once been, it was now merely dirt— one small sampling of decayed life, groaning after glory— and not the marble men require for the tread of kings. It lay where it fell, gave its last strength to the olive, took the weight and kicks of common feet. And when the Lord came— […]
Read more "Gethsemanean Dirt"Ruined alabaster and a year’s worth of labor dripping off Jesus‘ feet— wasted— and all while people starve to death! So the loveless look on love and see but fault. But Love knows love— hears the echos of Himself in shattering stone, feels His own heartbeat in oil running down: it is a gift, and […]
Read more "It Could Have Been Sold"The fall of the leaves never is the end, whatever sorrow mingles with the wind like tears, however the touch of winter’s icy fingers shock and still with the chill of death that lingers on like years. For vows inscribed on circuits of the earth cannot be broken on their way through dearth and drear. […]
Read more "Expectation"When Love meets cold, it does not roll itself in brash, grey wool to cry; it gathers like the sky, folds itself around our dust, and falls— a hundred—thousand—million—times— in feathery diamonds all around us, making shining glory of the weathered ground.
Read more "When Love Meets Cold"Not in a hurry, the flurries tumble, wind-borne, up and down and ‘round.
Read more "Lazy Snowflakes"I give them my word and then it breaks— splintered letters I cannot hold together in the weakness of my hands. I try to splint them back, force the word to work—cracks and all, but I have faded from rock to wood to settled ash. The promises of yesterday, I can no longer lift, and […]
Read more "Useless"To the shepherds whose hearts bore some small, fragmented reflection of His own, He came— the good Shepherd, small and swaddled, given in a place where they would be welcome.
Read more "To the Shepherds"If I am a blade of grass, the world serves me drought, the feet tread—heedless—on my head, and I am brown, cracked, and bent. Wave in the wind, they say, and shine in the sun, Emerald. Sport the frost or all is lost to the grey, the ice, the end. But I am only a […]
Read more "Praying for Rain"
melenoria 