• hope

    window

    by  • April 4, 2016 • durham, hope, poetry • 2 Comments

    window the late afternoon light is the color of gratitude wouldn’t you say as the shadows grow longer and the coming chill pulls us closer what else is there but thank you Peace, Milton

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    perspective

    by  • March 28, 2016 • easter, grief, hope, poetry • 2 Comments

    perspective the daffodils bow their heads in the early morning rain without explanation, on this day after resurrection. I am left to find resonance in both reverence of redemption and the weight of the water. the raindrops hang like tears on the window, or tiny jewels, depending on where I am. my coffee cup...

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    lenten journal: blank

    by  • March 25, 2016 • hope, lenten journal • 1 Comment

    I started a new train book on the way to work this morning: Maps of the Imagination: The Writer as Cartographer by Peter Turchi. The book, as the title suggests, uses cartography as an extended metaphor for writing. As the train worked its way to New Haven this morning, Turchi was talking about the...

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    lenten journal: holy week

    by  • March 19, 2016 • hope, lenten journal • 0 Comments

    the road from here to resurrection is mapped in my mind (and my heart), from palms to parables, crowds to cross. I know the days, the steps, the words, the mileposts. my feet are covered with the dust from the feet of disciples who walked this way when the road was not so well...

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    lenten journal: seasons

    by  • March 11, 2016 • hope, lenten journal, music • 0 Comments

    Maybe it’s not exactly the right word, but I was well into my thoughts for tonight when I realized I had already used weather; seasons will have to do. We have had a couple of early spring days here on the Shoreline, and it set me to thinking of songs about wind and rain...

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    lenten journal: courage

    by  • March 4, 2016 • america, faith, hope, lenten journal • 7 Comments

    I woke up to a surprise snowfall this morning, and nowhere I had to be immediately, so I sat down for my morning coffee and continuing conversation with Madeleine L’Engle and Marilynne Robinson. Even though their two books were written two decades apart and, as far as I know, independent of one another, I...

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