Saturdays

Glorious Saturday, long would I hold thee. Tight would I embrace thee. Till like a water balloon my grubby hands rupture thee and spill thy insides out upon the used up ground. Oh Saturday if only thou couldst last. . .

Sinai

They misread the signs— the silence of forty days’ time— the loss of the man, destitution. _ Blindfolds and unmoving feet stoke madness. _ They put their gold to the awkward gape and made a calf— This is your god, O Israel. _ And where was Yahweh all the time? Not far— the Creator of […]

Lord of Autumn

Lord of Autumn, You enchant us with Your skill for taking summertime with such majestic grace. You lend Your royal colors to the wooded hills. You stain the sky impassioned blue above our place, and with the breeze, You stir the fallen leaves to run. You make of loss a paradise when You are near […]

The Gift of Grief

And maybe (somehow), off where grief will give loss becomes a better way to live

Morning Loss

Green umbrella by the ocean shifted into sifting sand— little grains of crystalled rock-dust blowing toward the endless blue. – She shifts and lays aside her novel, blue as water far away where the wave line meets the sky wall like eternal, bright and fey. – Up above, the halcyon sky shine scatters light; a […]

Thanksgiving: Pain

Father, thank You for the pain— a gentle honesty that holds the body in useless stillness to say, Any strength we have is given. Father, thank You for the sorrow— an earnest loyalty that rends the heart with throbbing losses to say, The only home we have is Heaven. –

Take the Lamp

It seems a cold, dark shaft where love would bid me go— deep beneath the hills. The memories, sand-like, blow— a heart-blinding draft. I’ve walked the caves before— walked them with a thief until the stars were gone; I know the haunting grief— and I cannot anymore. But I forget that love, with […]

Snoozing

Time kept knocking, and I kept turning it away. And that is how I lost the day. –

Today

The trees look sad today, lonely on the hill. The wind played yesterday, but now the air is still. And the leaves have gone away. Will you let your faces fall where the leaves have died and fade? Your figures still stand tall though you cannot offer shade. You shall yet bless us all. […]

A Time to Mourn

When heaven takes a soul from us and leaves the body cold and still, the balm of truth may calm the mind, but cannot cure the heart of pain for at the tomb of Lazarus where he would rise, creation bowed to Providence, but Jesus wept.