Oh, Child. You are not just a child of God. You are the answer to aeons of prayer. You were made this way before breath brought you to life. Spider woman and thread weavers from realms you've not yet met answered the prayers of Ancients and made you. Your normal is not theirs Your normal … Continue reading Oh, Child.
The loneliness is immense, rounded, like a halo. Maybe it's holy, too. I wonder if it spills from me like the milk from the moon. Lighting the way, maybe a companion of itself. It's lighter than the Other responsibility but somehow bigger. Not peace-less yet not a piece of anything puzzled or … Continue reading Lonely
They are more than mournable bodies whether disappeared or reinvented in a pimp's image, no less an image of God, in case you thought otherwise. Children of blood and bone, certainly; but beyond the skin they are or were in, they breathe fire and thread sinew. Sometimes, dripping it between the grains of sand they … Continue reading More than Mournable Bodies
The prayers come like flowing skeins of hope landing on a morning dew-kiss The prayers come crash landing on energetic waves of rage The prayers come with stories of love and yearnings for tomorrow The prayers come with deep desperation and the tightness of held breath The prayers come on the … Continue reading Prayerfelt
Still peace Utter peace Conceived somewhere Somewhen Borne on and delivered by some wind To settle and sigh Through the heart
May the grief-stricken be touched with the tenderest kiss. May the hunger for hubris be starved as love is heard. May mercy rise. May the light of beauty shine in the darkest corners. May hate give way to forgiving Grace. May mercy rise. May pain and fear be supplanted by communion. May pride … Continue reading May Mercy Rise
The waters wend their way around me, Wrapping around my legs with a 'shhhhhh.... Speak.' Snake and otter stand on end, Hood open and head cocked waiting..... 'Speak'. Ancient echoes and memories course through veins, entering others uninvited saying... 'Speak.' Old Ones come from the hills with a gentle plea to 'Speak, child... Speak.' … Continue reading Speaking Silence
Tucked away beyond the reach. Reaching out to give succor and safety. Only momentarily, though. We were always found. Now, we need to be found again. Seen. For ourselves. To replace fear with love, Pity with compassion; To air out the dark corners and step into the peace we are, the peace we bring. … Continue reading Hiding Places
When the stars get tangled up in the hair and roots get twisted across the toes, grace just isn't there There is a fine line between a twist and shout and a pirouette. Grace and ungraceful go hand-in-hand.