Wash Over Sound wash over me; noteswash over me; hold mein your sway, your soothing, your‘breathe with me, be at ease here, at ease here…’Enfold me, light withinthe notes, the sound,bathing me, taking in my tears,giving them voice, a brilliant transparencyadding story to the stained glass anda hovering in the roof peak whisper of heartthat is…
Because it is Pleasing to my Soul (or Breaking out the Big Mixer)
When I was a child, I associated my father with the making of certain specific foods. He would produce occasional batches of what we called “New Orleans square doughnuts” throughout the year and do the cranking on homemade ice cream in summer. Above all, though, bread-making was a favourite. Both parents made bread, and we…
Poetry in Stride
When I was a kid, I used to sometimes make lunch for myself according to what I thought went with the book I was reading at the time. I suppose it was a way to steep even more in a world I was enjoying. If I’m honest, I still do that sometimes. That aspect of…
Rock my Soul
I was listening to a talk by Dr. Ysaye Marie Barnwell this morning where she asked what it would be like to live as though our soul was being rocked. What would that do to how we moved, how we spoke, sang, walked, danced? How would that change how we felt and what we communicated…
Simply and Expansively Say what you will of me,I am more and I am beyondthe contour, the inflection, the sonorous limitationof any language. Find an image that sings to you of meand know that it is a single facet, a prismatic humming seen with a side-eye glance and I will always, will always, be more. Try and…
Is-ness
A friend shared this poem with me this morning and I loved it…Maybe some of my love for it is the weather of late. There have been some heavenly days in the last little while: the finest of August offerings…deep everlasting blue in the background with crisp greens in relief, leafy shadow art upon the…
Upon my hands
It was a beautiful beginning to my day… time at the Farmer’s Market; coffee and breakfast by the sea; pen and paper and time; and the joy of an inspiring cool breeze moving through the kitchen. Can’t begin to describe the good that this sort of thing does for me… Upon my hands My cupped…
Found in Translation
These last couple of days have found me engaged with an interesting project…If ever I wondered what it would be like to see, feel, sense, the inner structure of language (and I have)—translating music lyrics of one language into singable lyrics of another is a taste of what that might be like. I found myself…
Nearer My God
Nearer my God I have been knownto pray before flying a kite—letting my words settle onto thatwhich soon will know the airborne physicsof current, of loft, and find itselfnearer my God to thee,rising, rising, risingand once again returning,having scattered the seeds of my syllablesand ridden the laughter of wind. Kimberly M. King, rscj
Stayin’ Alive
Technically, I was born into the age of disco…though admittedly I was only just trying my hand at cursive writing during its heyday. Because of the music played in my childhood home, I knew the words to songs of The Who and the Rolling Stones before I ever knew about MacArthur Park and I’m pretty…
Consider the Lilies 