God’s own Poem
There is something translucent and innocent in the way light from a new-day sun flows down the brassy sides of the high buildings of the city. I’ve lived ...
Category: Spirituality
Living like a Skunk
Now back in the inner-city I can ponder my skunk. (Annie Dillard has her weasel, I my skunk.) The skunk is brought into being through immediacy and for all of h...
A Hiss and a Moan
Regrettably, the posts have been sparse…I have been travelling and, not so regrettably, I’ve been at the cabin watching…. Blithe seagull...
Art of Communion
May dawns gray. My screen dawns a dull white. I yearn for the sun and long for words transcendent. Words that commune as much as communicate. I have most of the...