There is a picture circulating of a little girl in an Iraqi orphanage, who misses her mother, so she drew a chalk outline of her mom, curled up within the lines and fell asleep inside her mother. This stopped me cold. I don’t ever want to be too tired to tell a bedtime story again, for as long as I live, for as long as my … Continue reading Heartbeat – Poetry for dverse
In the dverse poets pub tonight, the topic is trees and Under The Canopy, which fills me with love and light. That is what we do! We care for trees. (A memory from long ago when I was in school – and now I have my own!) Across a field from the dorms, a hike, up a hill, and lost, or nearly, we trudged until … Continue reading Picnic Tree
There is nothing like the smell of fresh Rosemary fresh between fingers, fresh from the garden, dirt under nails from digging, dirt on knees; you could say from praying, but it isn’t, really. Unless praying is cooing to the plants doing well, inhaling deep to fill the lungs, and knowing each miracle of bud unfurled is another occasion for wonder. Worn, green fingers smell of tomato plants, mix … Continue reading All this Talk of Rosemary and Religion
