An original poem, an homage to ancient friends, of the plant variety. Continue reading Secret Trees
A short meditation to be used in times when your life’s direction seems cruelly unclear. Continue reading Meditation: The Mist
It happens every year about this time. I can feel my soul beginning to retreat. My spirit has spent the warmer months of the year fattening itself up, feasting on the sacraments, the scriptures, the communion of the saints, and a host of other rich delights. Now movement is cumbersome, the world grows colder, and a time of rest is calling me. Continue reading “He Comes When Souls in Silence Lie”
Tonight is the windiest night of the year. Our home is locked tight, doors and windows and shutters, but gusty fingers pry their way into the smallest cracks. The chimes which hang on our front porch play a constant A minor, more winter-warning than summer-song.
The leftover leaves, the yellow- and red- and orange-turned-brown, have lost their grips and are tumbling into a wispy maelstrom, miles from home, months from belonging. Yet, despite this chaos, this ordained destruction, in some last conscious effort never perceived by my schedule, my binge-watching, or my quest for shade-grown espresso, each leaf cries out to return to branch and trunk and root, to feel sun and drink water, to go back to the beginning, when everything was green and full of flowers and fruit.
When everything was new.