Riotous Glory   The branches are tipped in riotous glory. There is no whispering now– only a fullness of unflinching colors boldly presenting themselves before the great inevitable fallow time before a fresh becoming. Do I dare desire likewise for myself?   Kimberly M. King, RSCJ   Posted with Blogsy

Early Watch Coffee is my company in this faith profession from a rocking chair.   I am all for you—and you, you are all for me, all for each; love-awed you are for each and you are for all.   And this glory dance that you conduct into being is your magnum opus blooming in…

Now and then I read something that inspires the Dickinson Effect within my psyche. ~ If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.~ (Emily Dickinson) Now and then I read something that pushes me back in my chair and whispers, “I think you understand,…

I went to the market early yesterday morning. As I walked down from where I parked the car, I saw the same guy I see every week I go, sitting on the guardrail by the sidewalk. He always seems to be waiting for something, or someone, or perhaps not. I passed and greeted him with…

I tucked into one of my favorite local thought spots to write a letter this morning. Another woman was across the big common table from me, diligently tikka-takking away on her keyboard. She looked up, smiling, as a I sat down. I smiled back and we both ducked into the thick of our writing. Until…

I have been away for a short while. I still had with me the tools of technology I employ for writing…pen, paper, IPad…but nonetheless, there has been a refreshing pause in posting much until now. I left home July 4th to head to McAllen, Texas, at the U.S/Mexico border, to work with two of my…

Some days ago I received a gift in the mail. It had no fewer than 37 stamps stuck on the outside of it and it was wrapped in paper. An 85 year old sister of mine had been collecting my writings over the years and as part of her paring down, she sent me a…

This Trinity Sunday, I was caught more than ever by the all encompassing nature of our triune God..Point of origin, companion on the journey, and what will bear us home. There is no blank page in the story…no empty moment. That is the way it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be…the…

An entry from this morning… 6:37 AM… Est l’heure de prendre un café avec une chatte qui mange son petit-déjeuner… I woke to my room being filled with the most wonderful light…first light, warm, embracing light. Hope for that was part of my motivation for leaving my blind slats open when going to bed last…

Coffee with Emily   Notes slid left-handedly with the slightest curl of lip- a poem passing, sparking, just above the rim.     Coffee with Pablo   You left words for me before you and the salted dory untethered. The conch kept them warm in her echo.   Coffee with Walt   A flower bedecked…