The cold steals my Warmth
Category: Purpose
Do Not Go: Erasure on a Favorite Poem
The dying wise men know /
Their words had no lightning.
Dare we admit that time will ne’er be right?
Dare we admit that time will ne’er be right?
‘Tis 2 AM; we’re far from ending night.
Mystery Meal
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “product/produce.” Use one, use them both, use them any way you’d like. … More
what will the waves do with their fury?
Paint the scene now, before ship takes a dive.
Drove along, he did.
He doesn’t come / when you call / usually.
Further from Progress?
We find ourselves
becalmed.
Between the Cadences
There,
we have choices
that make all the difference
Between the cadences.
See Where I Might Land – SoCS
The prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS) is: “let go.” Write about the first thing that comes to mind … More
‘Tis heaven’s heat which rescues from cold hell.
Away, aweigh, ’tis love which calls us forth;
The love which calls shall push us there as well.
When globe reveals what’s east, west, south or north
‘Tis heaven’s heat which rescues from cold hell.
and.
This is how it will always be.
Inexplicable Incarnation
Who would do /
This / On purpose?
Then What?
In general, I find a great deal of peace and predictability in the turning of the liturgical seasons. In other ways, it’s tremendously troublesome.
Always waiting. Always looking for what’s next. “OK, that one’s done, and I guess it didn’t ‘work’ either. What do we wait for next?”
Unwrapping the Gift of Wenceslas
I have to be honest; I’ve never liked this carol much.
On Advent – IV: Displaced Darkness?
Last night / We watched the candles / Lighted
On Advent – II: Evasive Peace
This week marks Peace; It still evades.
On Advent – I: Love Has Freed Us All
Life finds a way / Love finds a way / Amor nos omnes liberavit
Insides Out
I want to live with Insides Out / Is ever too much Out in doubt?
A peaceful path perchance yet stranger
The road from here is rocky danger /
And when we reach the end – who knows? / A peaceful path perchance yet stranger
The Curtain Crashed – Sonnet XXXVII
The curtain crashed before the show was o’er, / So no one got to see the very end.
defying atrophy 