Gospel

Photography by Cindy M. Diaz

I crowned twilight with the breath of the mountain, diphthongs down the valley.
I found my flight on this diadem, opening mouth to allow vowels out
I wound them up with streams of clouds into a timbred halo, Read More

Siren

She who needs saving

In my youth I was shown all the ways to you.  So vast and intricate, and in this wonder I stood paralyzed, unable to move toward you in terrible awe of the all-seeing eye design, dynamic and changeless.  In time I grew afraid Read More

Lyrical Love: St. Teresa

Painting by John Larriva

Let this year be a love affair with lyrics.  About 80% of my music library is comprised of instrumental music –classical, mimimalist, ambient, ‘world’, jazz—and of the remaining 20%, I’d say half of it is written in a foreign language of which I have little to no comprehension.  I rely on the chord progressions, melodies, and harmonies Read More

Homesick Angel

Pearl2

‘Pearl’ by Amaya Engleking

Words are nutrients for the lone poet. She who, in loving devotion, asks for revelations from God, is shown the brilliant design in golden fish-scale scapes layered as soft pearly flakes– rising miracles from the cracked crust of the earth, with each new world existing both for, and because of, divine love. She dips into one pool and each ripple is a new-born dream, manifest as human on earth, as star in sky, as song in space. Read More

Q’s Angels

Sadness about the angels who must forget what they are in order to be here.  Tiny ones gathered in my daughter’s cheek to pad her from when the kindergartner had a seizure and dropped her onto the floor.  The incident replayed over and over again in my mind keeping me from sleeping, my husband turned away from me, furious about the whole thing.  “Where is your mind?” Read More

Violent City

violent city

What I must learn about Colombia is that the journey was God-driven.  My speech was taken from me in those intimidating streets except when I was supposed to (and needed to, at this point) speak about my Lord.  I wrote that letter to Catalina, not knowing who on earth she was but a sister in heaven; but God gave me the words as well as the scripture from Deuteronomy chapter thirty, and she turned out to be a Medellín prostitute.  It’s not easy.  Humbling, to be writing to a lost soul who was both selling herself and who was myself: we are all sinners and our sins equal in the eyes of the Most High.  How does God work the perfection?

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2012

Karen-Shaw-Masterpierces-Christ-2011

Art: “Masterpierces” by Karen Shaw

The year I worked for an acupuncture clinic

Doctor would say healing ain’t no picnic;

But the practice was nothing I could ascribe to

Subtle sorcery against the only thing I knew.

Shut eyes in hotel but woke up in jail

Persecution is written, happens without fail. Read More