From the journal… In the Public Gardens on a bench by the dahlias. Lunch is wrapped in a cloth napkin in my bag, tucked in among crosswords, a novel, and assorted writing implements. This journal was in there, but is now flopped open on my thigh. Somewhere I am remembering that the column width of…
At Ease with Belonging…a Poem
At a recent gathering I attended, multiple people mentioned that they were seeing new facets of me, new aspects of who I was. I found this fascinating because at this gathering, I was, in part, doing what I do regularly…I was writing, helping the group pray… The people there had read and prayed with my…
The There and The Then and the What Will Be… a Poem
The There and the Then and the What Will Be There were things that I could have donebefore leaving:The sink which hadn’t seemedall that bad; the community of goodsgathered in the fridgewho since my goingand returning once again,have overstayed their welcome;desktop mountain rangeswith would-be landslidesarranged to topplewith the slightest addition.However, standing as I amin a…
Who Do you Say…
I have answered this question many times in my life…Who do you say that I am? And while there are a few elements in common over the years, I am equally grateful to know that there is no limit…that there remains the impossibility of containing; that more remains than I can possibly hope for or…
From the Journal: On SuperPowers and Not Knowing
From the Journal 7:26 AM At the end of the hallway, waiting to go to the market. Won’t have a chance to write while there this morning, so wanted to sit with you now…and I am so grateful, for that–and for the true Nova Scotia summer day that is blooming–breeze, sun, open skies, and great…
The Fullness
Since returning from days away, I have been a part of multiple conversations where the spectre of violence in the world has featured. One mentioned a gathering I will be attending this summer and the possible de-volvement of circumstances in the US that might bring about martial law in the city of the event. Another…
A Flat White and a Poem, Please
For No 9 Coffee Bar…And Those on the Stools I made the discoverythat there were stools rightthere, tucked into the side,right behind the espresso machine.Out of the way and somehowdeep in the heart of it all.Gritty and full of inner machinationsand steady service. My own heart, too, is like that.A few stools for thosegathered close—a…
Good Haunting: A Poem for Pentecost
Good Haunting: A poem for Pentecost The first time I heard her stutteringsmooth edged call from the woods,I said Thank You out loud,oddly grateful to be awake. To have the conscious knowingthat I was within her wingspan,that she was keeping deep, soft vigilover me and all that rested within me. Ethereal, yes, and good haunting.A…
Progressive Events
While I have never participated in such a thing, I understand the idea of progressive meals among a group of friends…one house for appetizers, one for the main meal, one for dessert, another for coffee, etc. It’s cumulative in many ways… The meal, for sure, and also the experiences, the number of people, the laughter,…
And That Covers Just about Everything
Not long ago I found myself in the middle of a group of people and various means of communication, all trying to sort out a schedule…Multiple people, some texting, some phoning, etc. After several flips and shifts over the course of a couple of hours, it seemed as though everyone was at last on the…
Consider the Lilies 