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"This time short time ago these limp wheat fields were lying in cold wind showers and dearth. Where they died silking in with other grains leaving dirt. That grew tall grass, and fed from past the grains around. Not one, not twelve, but unnumbered—fruits of life whirled by angry winds to earth to feed a […]
Read more "If a Grain of Wheat Dies…". . . I sit silent, cold alone the path you trod–the constant stone that never speaks or feels the prod of human hearts, or sees their nod. So quietly I bear the load the stone of house, or open road. – But here today I feel the thrill of royalty, of ancient will how […]
Read more "If These Keep Silent…"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"My life was once a stable pool bounded on the sides by stones that held the bank, preserved the cool of tranquil waters’ silent flow. But now I pass the river by, whenever I travel market road and see the bark-peels desperate try to keep their heads above the flow. The river gurgles up and […]
Read more "The River Teaches"I thought they liked me till they quite maliciously plopped an ottoman in my way.
Read more "Roomba Rage"Cardinals seem to congregate in crowds when clouds are slated gray. When all the world’s a weary wet or dripping droplet water cold the cardinals call and strut their crests till the sun climbs out to day. – – – Photo by Brian Forsyth: https://www.pexels.com
Read more "Cardinals Come"Liquid light and purple bright snapping– almost silent wall of felt and unseen glow, melting thoughts to somnolescent mush. Leaden fingers weighted down; book leaves falling to the ground where they crumple as I sleep beside the flame – – – Photo by Nathan Bingle on Unsplash
Read more "Winter Nocturne"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"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"
melenoria 