Poem at 2 a.m.

Oh the fragility of earthly life,an unrehearsed songachingly sweet,carried on the windsof a broken worldon butterfly wings. Oh my soulwake up, and liveand sing out loud.The song of the spiritis a candle that cannot be put out.It is a poemmade of brilliant light,a recitationto be spokenin the middleof the darkest night.

In the Wake of a Miracle (A First Attempt at Words)

*This post is the beginning of an attempt to respond to the Great Miracle that has happened in our lives through The Everyday Good. 2 a.m. In my bed, I wake to words that press in around me and won’t let me sleep. I get up and make my way to the quiet basement with…

Grief is a River

Grief is a river that now runs through my life.  Sometimes it is slow and steady, passing gently over rocks of remembrance, pooling up in beautiful, idyllic scenes where the late afternoon sun brushes through the trees and paints the waters and the riverbank in bright splashes of quivering light.  The aching beauty of having…

The Daily Turn #4: Naming All the Colors

Naming all the colorsis harder than you think–best if left until the first cup of lavender-grey teahas made its waythrough all five senses. The table is pinkerin the morning(on this kind of morning–a pale wood-rose)than in the dandelion lightof afternoon.And the pink of each morningis a different pinkWhich my daughter seems to know instinctively:Coming down the…