My mother received her heavenly crown in March 2020. This year, Dad was moved to a care facility and recently to hospice. Their house sold last week. They purchased several years ago after Dad retired from decades of serving in the ministry. It was the first house they owned. I reflected recently on my lack … More There was no childhood in that house for me
the amber traps and holdsold memories under glass molding and folding moleculesaround the unsuspecting and unexpected life that was birthed in Spiritgroaning and rejoicing from sacred roomswhere thoughts and prayers fed tireless fingers for clicking keys I recall a darkened narthexcut by a blade of light from the door– your door – to σοφίας καὶ … More set apart, in amber
On March 21, 2020, at the start of the COVID times, the last thing and the thing not to be was one and the same. Such a mundane thing to now have so much meaning. I still have the list. The day Mom’s soul departed for heaven, March 22, will always be memorable, but the … More the list
A crust had formed upon the snowA weighty blanket pressing downWhile soil and roots cradle deepAround the shell in which you sleep It made you seem much further stillAs I mused and mourned a whileThe joy of you would warm the dayWhether frigid air – or hearts – dismay Green and red push through the … More Reflection from a graveside in winter
My pen got caught on the memory of an and and I wasn’t ready his name and… and youand a calendarand a laughand a kissand a praiseand a blessingand a memoryand a hope the and of you hung at the tip of the pen but the and floated up and a sigh and the pen … More And
A man who held the Keys to HeavenReleased the lock in proclamationThat, when in full communion cry,“Holy, Holy, to God on high!”How near we are to souls we lost,Who sing among the heavenly host. With mourning gates now open wide,My tears ran free to silence pride.No finger brushed the tears aside.No mother’s gentle voice to … More Forget you not: or, Loss in the COVID spring
a tilting of air 