Advent IV, 2021 The quiet invites… O earthen comet,history made visible and witnessof tomorrow’s wonder,Breathe with me, be at easehere, at ease here…letfeeling enfold you and take onyour tears of knowingthe weight and the graceof this journey’s fullness. O streak of stardust and love,let silence soften the edges around you,leaving room for storiesto settle, to…
Tag: Poetry
Advent I, 2021
Advent I, 2021 There is a momentbetween the strike, the flash,the wick, and the flameand that moment is a movement toward,a drawing near enough to singe into beingso that others might see, might come to know. The candle does notlight herself in the crisp-edged quiet;Someone must tell the story that flares brightly. Kimberly M. King
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…
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
Consider the Lilies 