Dropping Keys The small man    builds cages for everyone    he knows. While the sage,    who has to duck his head    when the moon is low, Keeps dropping keys all night long for the Beautiful Rowdy Prisoners.   ----Hafiz, that beautiful rowdy prisoner of Love    ...

I am the universal donor Everyone can receive …my love. i AM love As are we all; A single love Radiating from a Single Source. In response to the prompt ''single'' from Figments of Imagination at One Single Impression.

    The battered boat’s Tenuous tether Snapped! Like a kite line Caught unaware in a gust.   Suddenly free Directionless Trembling at the precipice of each wave Daunted by the depths below her bow; An inky blackness of uncertainty all around.   But free, Holding hopes of future sunlight, Of calming ...

Irregular irregularity, My heart fails to find Its usually unbroken rhythm. Even that most 'natural' of expectations Cannot be known an instant into the future. Perhaps two hearts beat... Sometimes synchronous Sometimes sparring; One sings One sighs Teaching me everyday To let go of expectations Filling me with enough love to ...

We are defined as much by what we refuse to destroy as by what we create. I was telling a life-story to a friend the other day.  It was a story about part of the process of my separation from my now ex-husband.   We’d been together for 13 years at that point.  We’d built a beautiful adobe bed and breakfast as well as our own ...

Poem of the Month ~ December 2009What tender memory is evoked by this poem that can warm you during December’s cold nights? Oranges The first time I walkedWith a girl, I was twelve,Cold, and weighted downWith two oranges in my jacket.December. Frost crackingBeneath my steps, my breathBefore me, then gone,As I walked towardHer house, the one ...

This poem was sent to me on Easter Sunday.  Quite a wonderful connection to make to Christ's presence, I thought.   Swan     Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?   Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air – An armful of white blossoms, A perfect commotion of silk and ...

I had occasion to preach in our seminary's chapel today.  It is Monday in Holy Week in our Christian tradition.  This past Sunday we celebrated Jesus' entry into Jerusalem during our Palm Sunday service and this week we retell the stories about his last days before his crucifixion on Good Friday.  The story we read ...

Give your love a poem this month!  Tuck some into your pockets to give away!  Leave poems where unsuspecting folks can find them - such a happy surprise!  A true cupid knows this: heart-poems make the best love-arrows! Deep bows and many cupidical moments, Krayna     It Felt Love How did ...

Love’s muted shades Were gently aged When at first sight They flashed and flared. Bold, brilliance bursting forth   Led two hearts To find one love.

Click here for a lovely photo of loneliness Loneliness in a crowd…Wikipedia reports that “the existentialist school of thought views loneliness as the essence of being human. Each human being comes into the world alone, travels through life as a separate person, and ultimately dies alone. Coping with this, accepting it, and learning how to direct ...

In a recent exchange of comments about another blog Beth wondered if perhaps I might compose something on the work of Douglas Adams, author of ''The Complete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy,'' an English radio program that became a series of books, unless it was the other way around.  ''The Guide'' is more than a bit like Dr. Who on acid, ...

Awhile back my friend Rita C. posted a piece here on the VTH called 'Women who sleep with dogs'.   It's a sweet, edgy, tongue in cheek poem that made me think about the wolves I've slept with. Now, all you hundreds of past lovers of mine out there in the world, you can rest easy.  I'm not talking about you.  Of course. That ...

Men hate us. We have, somehow, they think, rejected them. They think, perhaps, we’re lesbian  (how that equates I cannot comprehend). It’s true, we sleep with dogs instead of men - we sleep with dogs because they are our friends.   They keep us warm at night, and mend the holes that men have punched into our souls. We ...

GOODBYE CEREMONY   Your husband, your son and your daughter have left. Their disconnected legs are mechanical vehicles carrying sagging shoulders and slapped faces away to restless beds. Out the window, there is no thunder, no raven, no song. There is only the noise of this room, the lights buzzing and faucet dripping. I say, ...

  flickr photo by Francis Storr   She had asked that in lieu of sending flowers, anyone who wanted to remember her please to plant a tree.  I planted two. And one backup, so that’s three. She was worth at least three trees to me. The peach, purchased just this spring, saved from the parking lot of City Market, the only peach ...

40   The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was martyred 40 years ago on April 4.  I was born 40 years ago on April 6.  My mother once told me that while she was in the hospital giving birth, there were riots going on outside the hospital in Youngstown, OH in reaction to the assassination.  Dr. King was 39 when he was gunned ...

This has been an intense time for me.   3 ½ months of reading and reading and reading and reflecting and writing and going to church and going to church and reading and deciphering Hebrew and reading and reading and writing and reflecting and researching and reading and going to church and planning a liturgy and reading and reading and ...