Tag: blessings
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I’m getting giddy as the summer fades
I’m getting giddy as the summer fadesinto yellow fall, and the sky father grants me the comfort of storing his favor on my tongue- enough to close my eyes and know that it will last for the coming snow,the clean pure white that will eventually evaporate as one in the hibernating warmth always underneath.
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Remembering First Snow
The snow in its gloaming has been heaping field and highway with deep, white silence.The pine, fir, hemlock are draped in ermine,the poorest twigs ridged in deepest pearl.From the shed’s roof a rooster crows and stiff rails now down, flutter to the ground.The silent father listens to the noiseless workof beating snow birds whirling by.…
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Gift of a Good Little Girl
After brooding on many deaths I decided to take a walk in the bright winter sunbefore it steals away for the coming night.The wind is blowing harsh, delivering a muddle of birdsong,cacophonies of voices,mostly from behind,one or two familiar,but only one voice,now in front, wasclear and distinct. A little dog, maybe, a chi or a…
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On Reading of the Demolition of the Once Good Hospital of My Birth
I think He made this hospital beautiful this place of dying, birthing, healing and enduring—How It opened up like a prayermonumental and pleasinga place to tend God and body—How He wanted those returning from sleep not to know the smell of cotton but the feel of traveling into a kiss—How He made it to repeat…
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Wooden Boats on the Water
Under familiar stars the water blesses this wooden fleet.The carvers shavings fall away, oak leaves in the wavesdrifting behind, until only jug beams remain- the last swayof city lights, torches yielding to sky, night and moon-until only water remains- water waving forever.
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Adhesion
In Vatican City a cardinal walks resolutely forward, his red trainflowing behind longer than a bride’s.It’s silhouette passes by the open windows of the atelier reflecting crosses over the bodices of thetailor’s latest scarlet creations.Another black smoke day rises from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel. Blood shadows slowly abandon St. Peter’s square for the…