"Tend the garden," He said. But did He really say? What is the garden? Who is my neighbor? This garden infested with dangers, toils and snares, sorrow and misery, pestilence and disease. This garden cannot be what He intends us to tend. What is the garden? Who is my neighbor? This world is not my … Continue reading Steward’s Song
Forest Paths Every day I cut my path through the forest. Some days I cut miles and miles of new terrain, and others I barely make it a foot. But I have a good compass, and I'll come to whatever glades and hills, rocks and water, highlands and lowlands that my path is meant to … Continue reading Forest Paths
There are worlds We know nothing about, and we pass them and step on them and make grand judgements. But until we shrink ourselves and stretch ourselves into those worlds, we will never realize how real they are. They will only ever be imaginary lands we argue about. And we will only ever be … Continue reading Ridiculous
There's something about us that longs for where we come from. There's something in us that recognizes when we're home.
Time seems thinner in the spring. I mean, each year is a layer and usually the layers are too thick, too heavy to push aside and revisit. But in the springtime -- in the euphoria of sunshine every past soul has seen, of a fresh breeze every past soul has smelt, of tender sprouts every … Continue reading Springtime Travel
I woke in a stupor. I'd been trying to stay awake. There he was, dressing in the light of a single lamp, long tee shirt and pajama pants. "I need - " I began. My brain was warm wax. "I need - " - my Spanish, no - " - my clothes, no - "my … Continue reading Bedtime
I love you for being myself and getting to grow into someone else. I love you for inside jokes, morning kisses, vanilla cokes. I love you for silly faces, karate fights and swimming races. I love you for crying tears, for working sweat and wrestling prayers. I love you for what I needed, I … Continue reading To My Russian
"You need thick skin to survive in this world." "What if I don't have it?" "You'll have to grow it." "What if I can't?" "You'll have to." "What if my skin is delicate, almost translucent? What if no matter how much I try, a bruise is always more painful, a wound always more deep? What if I … Continue reading Thick Skin
Joy despite fear and recklessness, Joy despite broken machines and hearts, Joy despite frozen winds and hot tears, Joy despite hectic feet and sleep. Joy that someday the term will be over And the holidays will begin.
Here is a poem I originally posted last fall. Hope you enjoy. Happy Friday! Layers Paper peels, and I can see decades in the bark, colors faded and stained, outdated and torn. If walls could talk (which is atrocious, for they do), this one would be brilliant. I need no history book.