The rumble thunder far away the sky gone grey and stone the wind path still…………………like holding breath as sits the leaden, sober stress: I stand vibrant here and live because He bled. For me. – The shrugs and shirks—the lethargy, the bow and bend to idle sins pursued with passion down the path or sometimes! […]Read more "Substitute"
It was in a garden where the firstfruits of our race found that joy and life was there that Providence had placed. But there inside a garden wall of shrubs and trees and berries all our cancer sin began to bloom The death of light the world of doom. – It was in a garden […]Read more "The Song of the Garden"
No darkness, no cross, no death-wound of heart could keep Christ from his friends. They ate and talked and sang and slept while He loved them till the end.Read more "Till the End"
Broken like a casket box– then waves of sudden cold puddle on the head and hair dripping off the beard. Overpowering all else an earthen, floral note– extravagant, and rich embarrassment of eager zeal. – Lasting for a moment–just the ostentatious show outpoured, and used and sudden–gone. a year of lavished work. Just so–the trail […]Read more "Mary’s Memoriam"
Like gently playing chords first loud then…nonchalantly………soft; the secret siphoning of information from my mind to where my students sit and accidentally learn.Read more "The Art of Teaching"
Things exist to be, they said to pulse, and jive, and jest. No deeper mean, just lean, they said for things exist to be. – But all is bright and rich we feel, a vasting meadow span that makes our life-light keen, we feel for things exist…in HeRead more "Things Exist"
We teach the best by stumbling in ways we thought we knew, and stubbing toes on drywall till we find the way to stalk. – The cleanly path, the painful-less that smooths its way around like silken shoes is bound to lose the strength of real and talk. – And so we strive to go […]Read more "Experience"
Out across the grave-gray pond a thousand sliver boats of light bear, like messengers, their glint and gleam to us. A whisper—just— from out across where park lamps throw their starbled shine while shadows close the farther shore in darkening blue and gray.Read more "Effulgence"
Pounding down the dusty trail, far up and off away, pounding toward McLeod place. Johnny comes home today. – A year ago, the snow still clumped in mounds of melting gray. A year ago he’d worn his sword— but now he comes home—to stay. – She hardly remembered the smell of his beard. She’d kissed […]Read more "The Homecoming of Johnny McLeod"
A smile is a curve like sunrise breaking out to warm the cheeks that lately knew a straight and tight line of nonchalance that now has changed to brighten all the world. – Eyes are wells like little pools that laugh like noise without the voice and bring a wiggly- woggle warm that drive your […]Read more "Smile"