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
Golden slit of rush hour city
Suspended dinner plans for one Read More
Sunday morning we lingered in bed tucked away from the cold reality of our uninsulated room, as the rain came down and the aspen turned outside. In each stint of wakefulness God said that we are now more spirit than flesh. There is no reason to have reservations about conducting the choir or any other work the spirit will lead my hands to perform. My meditations, antiphonal. You will know me. Read More
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
He is a living God, so we don’t need your laws of nutrition and insurance: Whatever we consume with a prayerful heart, we get what we need Read More
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
Missed the conventions
In garden picking spinach
The salad was crisp.
There’s this illusion that it matters more when a certain somebody talks. So people cling onto his/her words and either fear or have faith in their effect. Nothing like a campaign year to perpetuate that magic too, with hundreds of millions of us adhered to a screen, awed by what comes out of the mouths of candidates.
But the myth that their words hold any more power than yours or mine do must not be mistaken for the truth and hence, hold us captive and helpless. Read More
Annie Proulx asks, “For who has not heard music at the end of the day, [the most impressionable time] the quarter-light infused by somber harmonies that say everything that has ever been said?”
Yet even after glimpsing –and thereby eternally believing– this revelation, I still chase the black dragon of writing; believing in even stronger than moments that cannot be expressed in words, the ones that only can. There is a profound statement that mystifies the ages in the opening to John’s gospel, and meditating on ‘Christ as God’s word’ carries me to these far reaches of human belief: that not only can we define the indefinable, but it is our duty as writers to pursue the journey. Read More
The mind fragile; he crosses an ocean and all disintegrates into order.
Into her arms he goes; rip, decision, spill. Freeing the border.
The old line awakens into dance, A New One! The rhythm spins.
The beat of every blue shade. Simple: A new wor(l)d begins. Read More
Are we as a country becoming more divided or more unified? When historical decisions are made and elections fall to one party or the other, there is an “in your face” celebration focused at those who lost. When was the last time there was an election for president that was separated by more than a few percentage points in the popular vote? When was the last time there was a unanimous Supreme Court decision on any major decision? It’s usually 5-4, or 6-3 at best. That tells me there are a lot of people who will be hurt, lost, disappointed, and even confused as to what the future holds for them and their beliefs. Where is the leader who has seen his/her cause win, and then truly demonstrated a humility that there are a lot of people who are not celebrating?
John Pickard, Lakewood
This letter was published in the July 5, 2015 edition of The Denver Post
When I subscribed to that newspaper, it was so easy to get caught up in the issues of the day and to think my opinion actually had pull over another’s. It was so easy to get angry. When Mr. Pickard wrote this humbling letter, it immediately stood out as prophetic, and I was reminded of that which I ought to focus my energy instead: Christ’s teachings. Not left, not right, not forever down in a dark, deep cave. (See About section.) But above.
I cut out this letter and magnetically stuck it to the fridge, the beginning of my own magnetism upward to heavenly things, rising above the perpetual tug-of-war, the pull of gravity, the torrential seas. Transcending these laws lets us walk on water. Putting the needs of others before our own desires–prayer–is the way to get there.
© 2016, Amaya Engleking