lenten journal
table talk we sat around tables in the church basement we call fellowship hall sharing a potluck supper that turned out to be an abundance of bread on the table were sheets holding definitions of theologies of communion our topic for the night we read the paragraphs and then we
lenten journal
time piece some time in the night we will rob ourselves of an hour of sleep so that we can save daylight making some vague promise that the hour saved will be kept safely and returned in the fall a story that only works if we are looking at our
lenten journal
liminality how can two months ago feel like history? what was is long gone what’s next is not yet here our country is falling apart like a poorly built rocket we are left to wait and hurt and not know what comes next but something’s coming the way
poetry
imago d.e.i. can we talk numbers? 91 different kinds of antelope 11,000 different birds 50,000 spiders 34,000 snakes 30,000 fish and too many worms to try and count not to mention us we humans are one of 522 different primates but perhaps the only
poetry
last days no matter who has been alive or what has happened in history people have been convinced they were the last act of humanity because things were so bad who could imagine a future? no matter when they were alive they represented a fraction of all who lived before
poetry
stocked up when I looked up the roots of the word stock it said "supply for future use; collective wealth” and reminded me that it was four hundred years before it became a kitchen word still I think about the pot simmering all day filled with a collective wealth
poetry
ice it has been days since the temperature has topped the freezing mark the snow that fell a few days ago has crusted into a crunchy stability if you have to go out but ice is not your friend whether the white ridges or the translucent layer disguised as ashphalt
poetry
word choice another word for change is loss another word for loss is absence another word for absence is space another word for space is distance another word for distance is apart another word for apart is away another word for away is beyond another word for beyond is without
poetry
tidings Christmastide has ebbed and the waves of wonder that crashed against the sea walls of our hearts are slipping away trees go down lights go dim and it dawns on me tides don’t stop they come in one after another waves break just like hearts one after another
poetry
route map the four-gate airport in New Haven (travel-sized, my friend Mandy says) announced new routes to five cities and it made me wonder how many new connections I have made lately or what it means to be an airport even if it is only metaphorically a place of connection
poetry
epiphany I’m working on a sermon about the saddled sages who were sane enough to follow stars and wise enough to ignore the king’s directions and find another way home I used to see a desert sky as their background but recent years have given me the view
poetry
trash talking after staying up late to watch the ball drop and listen to musicians I didn’t recognize we did not need fireworks lightning lit up the sky and the rain fell like it was washing the world so far this morning I have fed pups drank coffee done