Afternoon Run: a poem


I saw the wind blow
a thousand petals
from a tree; beauty,
wrenched and scattered,
like velvety kisses
tossed from on high,
stolen to give away

each branchy finger
released its grip,
bending with the wind
and reaching with
uncurled hands for
what the thief had stolen
before returning to
standing tall

IMG_8262Don’t forget to leave a comment on this post for a chance to win some great books!


holy ground: a poem


the blinds were drawn
when I came upon them,
lying head to toe, in his
hospital bed, his arms
wrapped around her legs

faint light of midday
eeking through slats,
steady drip of faucet
slowing down time, her
face puffy with sleep,
over fifty years of
being at his side
molding them into one.

they told me stories
about their dog, and I
showed pictures of mine;
when she told me about
her broken heart—about
the death of their son,

a flock of birds took
flight from the tree
outside the window. I
watched their silhouettes
against the closed blind,

as bird after
bird after bird lifted
itself up into
the sky.


*Don’t forget, friends, we’re taking a break from the playdates linkup for the remainder of December. I’ll meet you back here in January! Praying your Advent season is sweet thus far.

New Year’s Eve: Poem

We’ve walked
this long, mean street
365 days in a row—
true. Each one folded
out like the one before;

rows of windows are
vacant eyes, dusty
corners and sidewalks
lay strewn with broken bits
of hope. We tread these days,

step across the brim of time
and trust is putting one foot
in front of the other. I see light
move like a stream out
of you—fall into a river

that rushes to the ocean and
the sky breaks open and we
are shingled in starlight … we
pick our way through shining
orbs, feet light with dreams. All

that is behind is dark, and
before us, only light.