In the dreary midwinter time is never-ending and merciless. I chase the shadow’s bright reflections, brittle patterns on the silvery snow. This distracts me from the echoing lament I woke with today. Melancholy sits dismally on my chest, like a lethargic cat As I consider what’s gone wrong with me. There’s always something and I’m…
Tag: My Poem
{We Are All Dying}
The crawl of fear, of losing, is close. It licks me, as if I am a salty wound. Everyone dies. Of course. But lately, I am aware of Life all around me healthy or otherwise. Tiny birds are singing a sonnet, high up in the tree. Cancer cells are growing inside a dear old friend. Dementia and…
{faith is waiting, leaning in. a lump in the throat}
It is the prolific writer and theologian, Frederick Buechner, who said: “Faith is different from theology because theology is reasoned, systematic, and orderly, whereas faith is disorderly, intermittent, and full of surprises…. Faith is homesickness. Faith is a lump in the throat. Faith is less a position on than a movement toward, less a sure thing than a hunch….
My Duct Taped Heart (a poem)
I’m awake early, even before my alarm. Lieing in bed listening to the rolling thunder, wondering to myself. I know a rain spout is loose, it was duck taped on. It worked for a season but even that finally came loose and free. I don’t know how to fix things. I wonder about my father and…
he wipes my spilling tears [a poem]
Trying to write my story is sometimes like cutting back flesh, recently pink and scarred to find the plain cold truth. I want to heal and so I wonder if this is wise. This rending, backward into ancient despair to find the open rot inside. It is a kind of hell. But I go there. I…
Fly Boy (a poem about letting our children grow and go)
My baby flew away today with hardly a look back at me. Motionless, I whispered “I love you.” He waved and then abruptly he was gone. I’m not ready! My heart heavy. I am not able to see him there, high up there in the clouds he is spinning golden dreams, twirling with anticipation and…
this life-long fast [*a poem*]
This Life-Long Fast Just saw a headline in the Huffington Post. Winter Cocktails Gone Wild. And I am choked by my longing. I can’t explain it easily, but I’ll try. I still crave alcohol. Not in the way you might think. Infrequently. And not when or where you might expect. I go to church in a bar,…
