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On an early fall morning
There is so much I would tell you if there were time, if you had time. I would tell you how the trees are shedding their raiment, their leaves scattered across the turf like the cast offs of careless teenagers. Or how, last night, my heart briefly swelled in my chest as I pondered the…
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I am not lonely
I am not lonely; I am alone, though you would likely never know for all the sound and fury, chaos and light that fills my days and chokes my nights. I am not falling apart; I am many parts- emotions and habits, experiences, art, bandaged together by a fragile gravity that I call my self (mystery…
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What is True Right In this Moment?
What is true in this moment is that I am alive and there is breath within my lungs, this sweet air with its hint of sharper days on a horizon as yet unseen. What is true is that this moment will not be the end of me. It is is merely one in a series that together make…
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Peace and War: Son of Jesse
Early in the morning David left the flock in the care of a shepherd, loaded up and set out, just as Jesse had directed him. And he reached the encampment as the army was going out to its battle positions, shouting the war cry. Israel and the Philistines were drawing up their lines, army against army. Then…
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The Stories We Tell
I have been spending a lot of time thinking about the ways in which we live out the stories that we told about ourselves when we were young.* It is fascinating to trace the person that I am today back to the person I was when I was fourteen years old. I ask myself: how…
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Apathy and Me
A few years ago, someone gifted me a copy of a book by Kathleen Norris entitled “Acedia and Me: A Marriage, Monks, and a Writer’s Life.” I considered the tome for all of about 10 minutes before deciding that it had nothing helpful to teach me, after which I set the volume upon my bookshelf…
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Silence
I will write no more letters nor will I cast my words upon your silent altar. Why would I when You do not answer? Still, I wonder: what if silence *was* Your reply and I could not hear its gentle whisper amidst the clanging gongs and noisy cymbals that I had cast upon your feet,…
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The Gift of Distraction
If I have seemed distracted, lately, perhaps it is because I have been startled by the beauty of a world in motion. Yesterday, it seems, we were trapped in the heavy humidity of August in Pennsylvania; this week there is an edge to the morning cold, and I noticed the edge of a dark red…
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Arroyos Secos
Oh snap. I allowed myself to be drawn, like an unwitting child following the distant call of the ice cream truck, to this place I did not want to be. Every crevice of this unforgiving territory is bathed in the intimacy of familiarity: the dark, warm hollows that offer their dubious shelter and the golden…
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Absence Makes the Heart
Why not a haiku to start the week? I think I miss you but then I cannot be sure so much is unsaid.
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Deeper in me than I 