Room With a View

My baby is six months old. In her short life she has already lived in two small mountain towns and in three houses. Mama’s always harping, “You have kids now, when are you going to settle down. For crissake’s they need STABILITY!” Hey, it’s her gypsy blood in the family; not my husband’s nor my father’s, so I think she could be a bit more embracing of her roots! So here are pictures of views from our last three places of residence. Read More

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Advent I: On Darkness & Light

Rarely do I post another’s words here, but this poem by a favorite contemporary poet touches on the profound anticipation of this quiet season. Just what my heart was beating, and I like to imagine God’s in syncopation with it too. Thank you, Peter.

Gathering Stones Strung on Threads

Jan Richardson paintedprayerbook.comJan Richardson paintedprayerbook.com

Take away from me
the white blossom of spring
the mottled red apple of summer
the the amber leaf of autumn
and what have I left
      but the black`on`black
      of dark`days dark`nights

Add to the darkness
one single bright star of light
one pin`prick in the black canopy
for the light of a distant sun
and what have I found
      but the candle in a window
      of One excellent at waiting

For the darkness of waiting
of not knowing what is to come
of staying ready and quiet and attentive,
we praise you, O God:
      For the darkness and the light
      are both alike to you.

For the darkness of hoping
in a world which longs for you,
for the wrestling and laboring of all creation
for wholeness…

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One Year

Painting by Julia Watkins

Here we go ‘round the prickly pear, full circle needing prayer

Ashes to molasses, dust to suckling star dust

Sing your celebration, don’t compensate for your salvation

Only to look upon Creation and see what you must: Read More

Loss and Viruses, A Train-ride to DC, Sisterhood

Glassworks

On the train to DC to visit Bek, a man came from a few rows up and across the aisle to tap my shoulder and hold up a screen that read, “Will you help me?” He is deaf and needed to call his case-worker, Mrs. Allen, to let her know that he is on the train. I called her and she told me that it was okay for him to go back to his apartment. I typed her reply and as I got up to return to my seat he leaned in and told me, “I just lost my family in an explosion.”  Read More

Gilt Indigo Lips

Painting by Jarek “Khaal” Kubicki

What happens when you see no end
To the blues and faraway song, your only friend
And there’s no sheep in your flock to tend
And you try to play but it hurts to pretend
Ain’t nothin fallin down to amend
Cuz you’ve made yourself able to bend
All the way to the ground
Because it’s all turned all around
You think down is up and up, a playground
Where lost children go to be found
By open arms and lips that make not a sound
But the kisses that say, ‘how bout another round?’ Read More