Rivers of Language: A Thank You

The world is not radically different than it was before January 20th…not really. The problems that existed still do and new ones are poking through the surface thaw. And some of the truths that were, still are— They still are…and there is one in particular that I keep returning to in my mind—something I have…

Advent IV 2020

Advent IV of the annual Advent series is a bit different this year. I had someone write to me from New York City this morning and say— I’m sure you probably know this, but Xavier is using one of your poems in this year’s Lessons and Carols! I had no idea… The Church of Saint…

Advent I, 2020

For the last fifteen years or so, I have written an Advent series—one per week. It’s been interesting to see how I have had to sift and search through metaphor and image in a different way this year…trying to find something that would honour the season and the year alike. The standard go-tos just weren’t…

Election Day, 2020

Election Day, 2020 Choosing the Shape of a Soul Someone asked me this morning—They asked,What are you praying?Didn’t take a minute,didn’t take a breath,I said The vote will bewhat it is—be thatmanipulated, honoured,legal, challenged…Ihave done my part and no, hear me, no, I am not indifferent to the result. Whatever it looks like, pleaseKeep the…

A Hare in Every Nettle

From my notebook: 16 August, 2020 7:26 AM. Good morning. Am in the sunroom with an entirely welcome cup of coffee, a cool breeze, and a view of squash blossoms outside the window. It does feel as though the most tentative turn autumnal has been made these last two days. Not that summer has been…

A Poem: Reading in late July

Reading in Late July The humid weight of summerpresses into the page of the bookwhich begins to set roots in my handswhich begin to stick to my lapwhich succumbs to the gravitational pullof the bench and the bench to the porchand the porch to the lazy earth, thusrendering all suspended in a hazy stillnessthick with…

Good Night, Robert Burns

Good night, Robert Burns, though we’ve not formally met. I pass you all the time, aware of you, yet only on the occasional New Year’s eve do I give you true consideration. Until this evening…when I caught you looking out over our city…this evening when the sun was dialling down to a gentle horizon glow…

Lens, Pens, Paper, Heart

These are some wild times in this wide world… And an opportunity to consider things…to notice. I’m trying to take a walk every day and to write as well. As I collect several pieces, I’ll put them together into a post. Haiku is not a regular form for me—the limitations and discipline is helpful these…