Author: stephen t berg

  She walks often, almost daily, takes a well-known path through an open park, then a tree-lined street back to her home. She walks through every season; she gr...

  Dented, squat, aluminum cylinder, with a flat handle the length of a child’s forearm. It hangs on a nail beside a five-gallon crock of well water that sits on...

  We formed a circle around a small fire,we sat cross-legged, listening to the lake,someone had a guitar, someone passed out candles, we sang softly, our faces ...

  In the beauties of holiness from the womb of the morning, thou hast the dew of thy youth.   (Psalm 110) It’s sunrise, and the verdant earth is baptized in dew...