Glowing medal slinging rays, coruscant, burnished, light, killing time in grand displays, come meet me after night. – – – Image by Christine Cravens from PixabayRead more "Pageantry"
You are the only One I cannot see— I’ve searched the faces on my crowded way, athirst for You—Your arms of flesh—to lay my head upon. And must it never be? You go with us, but how invisibly! I miss Your eyes when I look up to pray and wonder why You hide them far […]Read more "The Nearest One"
We all see ghosts—at least do I. They hang, sometimes, inside the mind the vision spots: fractured slits of broke morality They linger in the memory and sometimes make their presence known to tempt or tease or taunt. – They are because we put them there and loved them—once—from deep inside and gave too much […]Read more "Holy War"
Ana, Your grave lies small beside the grass, which short–I hear the sound of mowers still rises higher than the marbled flat within the ground. This place we laid you: never once to see the sun, or the brown and dying blades of life. But now the grass is green again and now the sun […]Read more "To Ana"
Lizard leaps from stair to step poised, practiced. An adept that seems concerned lest creatures yet might see his stagecraft and forget. – – – – –Read more "Lights, Camera, Lizard"
Summer nights when daylight lingers— fingers paused on the screen door; talking warm air, crickets and fireflies— a friend that doesn’t want to say goodbye.Read more "Twilight"
Morning light, spilt through foliage, splashing the grass with gold; the simple, daily pouring of nourishment into a crumbling world.Read more "Morning Light"
The little bird that flies beneath the puffed up sky owns the gift of life and the pleasure of God’s eye.Read more "The Little Bird that Flies"
That bird’s reflection seems to wave and wing from other worlds a ripple fold of ancient hope and crystaled good (though far away)Read more "Reflections"
And maybe (somehow), off where grief will give loss becomes a better way to liveRead more "The Gift of Grief"