Breakfast In the Tidal Cool The sea, she wore her autumn greysof light and depth and shading;I bowed an inquiry-she acquiesced; I was welcome by her side. A brine-washed rock, my mossy perch to join at table—the gull and loon,both dipping down to break the fast of night. Kimberly M. King
A Psalm of Vinegar and Molasses
A Psalm of Vinegar and Molasses How wondrous are your flavours,oh Lord of balance and surprise; How wondrous to spend time within the intimacy that is cutting board and quiet;that is the scent of toasting seedsand the crack of release when they are pressed against the grain, leaving for history an echoing amenbefore being pinched up to dustthe glory…
Entirely Grateful
Because we have had our Thanksgiving meal on Sunday for the last number of years, I have spent the first part of the actual holiday in the Halifax Public Gardens, sitting on a bench around the “Decanter” fountain–I’m sure it has an actual name in addition to the name I have given it so as to…
Before the storm
On Picking Herbs before the Storm Time has a smellwhen it holds fast,spinning in place with no advance.It is the scent of concentration,when outward turns inwardand motion is slowed intoa thickness of feeling. Somewhere within thatthough, I learned from the looseattentive, herbal, allure of basil, and mint, and green’s own thyme—Incense and prayer,Incense and prayer,Let it…
But by Fascination
After St. Andrew’s…4 September, 2022 But by Fascination Not by force but by fascinationdo I unfold my blanket, do I open wide my senses,all of my senses, beneaththis wild and knotty treeand stand outstretchedfully knowing that this,this, is how she learnedto receive life into her embrace and to setit free to fly onward, freeto fly…
Shadow
It began with going to the farmers’ market down by the water. The purple kohlrabi that had split while growing and bore the connective scars smoothly and evenly between its three, four, even five, sections. The dark earth that freckled the shiny tight onions I picked up simply because they were beautiful. A handful, no…another…
A Memory, A Photo, A Poem
Black-Eyed Susans Once, I spent a summer vacationbuilding a siphon that broughta bucket of waterfrom the kitchen landing downstairs and past the ivy wallmy grandfather would trim,across the narrow drive and once again downthe hill I would roll uponuntil reaching the apple trees,laden and raining their green gravel. From there, captivated by the wonderof my…
New Meaning
After Saint Andrew’s, July 3rd, 2022… New Meaning Confession: To help create, to be within, a present and longing quiet that is breath, heart, and Spirit, calling, easing, the down-draw of burdens weighing like ballast upon a wind; A wind, a Holy-song gentling, proclaiming, the forgiveness we seek because the grace of God’s welcome, that…
Few Words, Much Communication
I went over to the Public Gardens this morning for the specific experience of letting its peace hold me… It was the first time this summer season and it was like walking into the arms of a grounded and welcoming friend. There was bird-song and bird chittering in conversation with the low hum of humanity;…
Sweet Wonder
Sweet Wonder I am grateful for a lemon knowing its bitter-bright fresh worth and knowing too how to catch the eye of cinnamon’s ‘hello there.’ I am grateful for the way that chemistry welcomes -ish (up to a point—as science is science and has reason keeping watch); for the resistance of dough that welcomes my…
Consider the Lilies 