You bless. We give back up. Like mist in the morning. Precipitation suspending, rising again. A living vapour. The wet earth trembling, yielding. Sustaining cycle, circle of life. You give, we receive. The borne fruits, the shed leaves. the vines cut, for next year’s growth. You pour, we receive. What flows from us, proof of … More A Poem: Mist in the Morning

The poets can teach us, can show us a thing. Not from inside out, but outside in. Not from above but from underneath, Not from front-on, but from corners overlooked that we first arrive slow to discern. The poets can teach us what they see from a distance, or so close, the eyes take time … More A Poem: The Poets Teach Us

Its not a prayer. Its not words you must repeat in the right order, without missing any, to put your heart right with His. Its not forgiveness you need. Although redemption you may ask for, for salvation from pain and the confidence to enter His presence. But it’s not anything you must do, or bring … More A Poem: Not a Prayer

Poetry brings me home. When I have wandered directionless, without a light, when longings keep me circling, lost child in the dark. I find it beckoning, wooing me. Its shining, liquid words my lighthouse on a rock. Poetry, drawing me in like a room lit at night. A lantern, weaving through leaves as filtered sunlight. … More A Poem: Without a Light

Have you ever written out your heart instead of crying. Have you ever made love instead of breaking apart. Not that tears are not words in liquid form, or breaking a way of mending. Has it ever taken death to be more aware of life. Has the flesh ever been more holy, than when we … More A Poem: Stilled

‘Listen to the long stillness: New life is stirring. New dreams are on the wing. New hopes are being readied: Humankind is fashioning a new heart. Humankind is forging a new mind God is at work. This is the season of Promise’. Howard Thurman Seasons are slow to turn. Slow to arrive slow to shed … More A Poem: Slow Turning

Morning is for the birds, the light of wing swift of flight. And for those who wake and shake sleep’s dust from their feet and unloose the residue of yesterday as a discarded robe. Morning is for the birds, ever resounding chorus announcing the world’s beginning. And for those who catch the tune and message … More A Poem: Morning Is

Kindness is the space between a spring rising from a desert a strip of blue against leaden sky. Kindness is the space between breaths a pause that holds back speech and a voice that advocates. Kindness is the heart’s response to the rational mind. It is mercy unwarranted and still poured out. So that kindness … More A Poem: The Space Between

The self that lives within, and views the world from its interior, the self that understands the world through touch, and light; needs more than the smooth surface of an unblemished house in which to live. The self that feels for the gaps in the lining, looking for the cracks that let in life; that … More A Poem: Broken