the amber traps and holds old memories under glass molding and folding molecules around the unsuspecting and unexpected
life that was birthed in Spirit groaning and rejoicing from sacred rooms where thoughts and prayers fed tireless fingers for clicking keys
I recall a darkened narthex cut by a blade of light from the door – your door – to σοφίας καὶ γνώσεως θεοῦ and the cloud that filled the room
and streamed out unconfined – a sweet, smokey incense – puffed from lips that blessed and consecrated – prayers rested there
and from this holy labor, words that pierced conviction and healed in absolution – a balm for blame; to sleuth and soothe..to sanctify
this imperfect thing that held ashes, present in tears and cheers – and jagged words – a reminder of the embracing – and entombing; fragile callouses to keep death contained
This was my father’s ash tray. He quick smoking – praise God – many years ago. I loved this piece of art even as a child. I remember sneaking a “puff” on a dead cigar just to taste the smokey sweetness of it. And, it was a connection to my father. In the poem, the phrase “σοφίας καὶ γνώσεως θεοῦ” is Greek for “the wisdom and knowledge of God,” found in Paul’s letter to the Romans, chapter 11, verse 33. Dad wrote any Bible verses he used in his sermons in Greek, so it seemed appropriate for the poem. I think Paul and Dad had a lot in common – excellent thinkers, theologians, speakers; powerful, imprinting personalities. Dad is long retired from ministry, the calling to which he was so deeply devoted. Man of God, Defender of the Faith, Shepherd of the flocks God gave him to care for. I keep it now in my home office where I can see it at all times – now filled with my mother’s favorite candy – to remind me of both his and Mom’s (who won her victory in Christ in 2020) immense dedication to faith and all they did to get me to where I am today.
a tilting of air 
How fitting for All Saints Day.
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