As sky arcs above; Read More
Your tangled blond curls and indigo snow boots as you sit, legs outstretched on the library floor
Maypole ribbons of language flaring from the page to touch your vast eyes and lioness laugh at all the good parts
The other kids lean on you — their protector — sensing you see what they cannot yet
Qohelet wisdom, and fear– a Serengeti carcass Read More
Baneful acts to free will bullet-hole the planet like an inanimate target; yet I still believe in the miracle of birth, how a newborn baby can bring joy like little else we humans can experience in this existence. How when one looks into a pair of eyes still swirling with creation, Read More
each new world existing both for, and because of divine love?
Do you dip 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
Behold! upward surge through the diadem
Sun lifts the people, its prayer for all of them:
‘This day will be a glimpse of Holy Spirit,
Some will kneel adoring, some will fear it.
Yet all who rise be taken up in the Word,
Though evil built a world and deterred
Creaturehood from knowing its Womb,
The love generated by Bride and Groom; Read More
The pain starts at night and I see myself holding you, your father looking into your eyes and finding a part of himself he had been missing. By the bright morning and cruel red-winged blackbird song though, there is no pain; your crib remains filled only with blankets townspeople and your grandmothers have knitted for you.
In the warm pool in the backyard under the canopy of the aspen grove, I Read More
Daddy has a pen
This is the poem he wrote
Now we call it, ‘Home’ Read More
“Little Lomy Loo” turns one today and she’s wobbling around pretending she’s Janis Joplin with her deep “blues” scowl she’s had since infancy, or eating dirt or dandelions, or giving me open-mouth, ready-to-nurse kisses on my cheekbone. And believe it or not, I’m nostalgic for her unmedicated, home water birth! Here is the full story for anyone needing the inspiration or who is curious about the miracle of birth.
My May baby. As you made the conviction that you were ready to be born into this world and slip today, May 19, 2016 from eternity into this strange design of time and measures, I ate the first cherries of the season. Once again and forever, these cherries taste sweeter when I talk to God.
At around 12:45am, some cramping woke me up but I didn’t think much of it since I’d been having irregular cramping for weeks. Plus, my due date was still three days away and I’d been convinced because of Qohelet’s birth that there was no way this baby was going to play by the rules either. But after about an hour of laying in the dark under almost-full moon-shine while the mild rushes came about every ten minutes or so, I asked Joshua not to go to work today. We heard Qoey stirring so while my…
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See the sun setting
And poets aren’t lamenting
It was a perfect palette, the day
What to dismiss as a petty kiss
Upon the cheek of Read More
This creation is what C.S. Lewis meant with the new Christian: The Atman. The quiet yet radiant, the contemplative yet lively. The paradox. The corporeal enigma. The truth. Read More