Poetry

The Dove

Here in a parking lot in February Where snow, piled through the winter, melting in thaw, Had sent a freshly pulsing tributary Across the asphalt like a silver claw, A dove landed, dipped, and drank, wary. Almost as swift in…
Poetry

Autumn Leaves

It seems the leaves know that they’re done with green of photosynthesis: loosing their stems from tendril grasp, they drop, but glide so far from tree you wouldn’t think that leaves so far had come from distant oak or birch…
Poetry

Resurrection

They lean over balconies, strain to hear through thick silence, dangerously close to the edge of sky and star, where time smudges into forever, they listen. It is there.  A breath – a great inhalation of life, a calm, rhythmic…
Poetry

utterance

There is no beginning, only continuation of the utterance. Breath into breath, spilling out beyond breath into being, form unfolding, the utterance behind all existence. Infinite expression, endless creation utterance divine pouring forth in liquid grace perpetually spoken. (Inspired by…
Poetry

The Book of Kells

Here, there’s no circle, only the spiral, endlessly turning back on itself. No straight lines, only curves, coiling, looping. There’s no direct path to the Kingdom of Heaven; it’s circuitous, echoing the barrow graves of Newgrange, indecipherable swirls, zigzags, lozenges.…
Poetry

Complaints from Medieval Scribes

a found poem  Imagine sitting for hours at a slant desk, copying on rough parchment with a sharpened quill, day after lonely day. Of course you’d be tempted to write in the margins: “That’s a hard page and a weary…
Poetry

God of Dust

Early afternoon in late December: Clouds covering the face of the sun Parted and let light flood the living room, A current picking up carpet fibers and dog hair, Offering them up on tiny thermals, An ordinary sacrifice From time…