This morning, just above the southeast corner of a building I pass on my quotidian amble, there was a perfect half-moon reverently singing her praise for creation from the helio-cradle of morning’s rise. The desire to stop and gaze with intention was stronger than any concern about catching either a bus or a cup of…

From the journal this early morning… At my desk, the usual time. The light this unique moment, though, is a glorious treat… there are large scalene triangles of sunshine on the west bookcase across the room and yet, also one small spotlight of sneaky joy that hums with morning atop the 8956 combination of the…

I tried writingan Easter verse,but— my pencilburst into blooming;the page leafed greenly;and a birdtook to singingfrom inside my coffee mug. Resurrectioncan do that to a poem,it can. Alleluia! ©MperiodPress

Went to Vigil practice last evening. E, C, and I practiced our readings with relative ease and speed. I was able to run through Exodus twice—to chew on it. learn its textures, taste it—a welcome thing. I stayed a while after, though, steeping in the space…as if trying to take it into my being somehow….

The final steps of the walk began today. It is a walk I know, a story I can tell by heart. And it reminds me of a dance I participated in during a meeting the week before last. It was known as The Spiral Dance. The leader has a candle and all eyes are on…

I went to the Stations of the Cross on Friday night and found that meaningful participation in this ritualized journey was a near impossibility for me. My mind and heart were not able to look at art and listen to readings at the same time while also immersing myself spiritually in the progression of a…

Silence drape me loose anddance me slowand sing me deep. beckon meI will respondfill meI will overflowseduce meI will succumb. tempt me softpromise me kissbe with me still. ©MperiodPress

From RevGals, a Friday 5 on Hope My beloved speaks and says to me: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard…

I have had a day of actual Spring Cleaning. For the last two days, the City has been flush with a blooming, singing, tantara of glory at the coming of the newest season. I have taken the chance, being on break, to make use of the energy such life brings and begin to go through…

Divining over their maps and charts yesterday, the climatic prestidigitators predicted a storm. Hope invited me to entertain a day of freedom; pragmatism called me to business as usual. So it was that I arose at the quotidian 4:45 this morning…bleary eyed, but already in composition mode, or so I discovered when clear enough to…