Sometime one thing becomes another thing and yet stays the same,

Like lovers who marry yet name themselves whole.

The waters can lift us over and over,

As a mother lifts her tired child again and again.

A camera stops time and gives us back to ourselves,

Like a kiss from a lover we know only in dreams.

Our lives are made simply of earth, water, fire, and air,

And yes oh yes of Spirit that brings us life itself.

All these things change and remain and always return

As we walk home again alone with the moon.


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What I want to say to the world is this.

For God’s sake, look for the light.

Ancient light that travels years to find us.

For heaven’s sake, pray for peace.

A mind so quiet that peace seems possible.

May what is broken be made whole.

May what is woven together grow strong.

I could go on my knees to say thank you forever.

There was a time when I had time.

This Advent, no prayer but this…amen.



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Porch Swing

Most Holy One,

You are always inviting

always welcoming

always calling.

Like the creaking wooden swing on my grandmother’s screened porch

always waiting

always moving in space.

Filling my imagination with boxes of old books and magazines written before I was born.

Satisfying my longing for quiet, silence, solitude.

Beckoning me to become a maker of words

and a lover of You.

May I never forget the movement of that swing, rocking like a cradle.

May I always remember to listen for Your invitation.

May I be brave and trusting enough to answer the Yes that leaps into Your arms.





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The Holy

The holy

Invites you to laughter so secret even the angels may not get the joke

Sleeps beside you at three a.m.

Stands next to you in the shower

Smiles back at you from the dressing room mirror.


The holy

Crowns you with fire so she can find you

Tells you stories of desire

Sings to you when tears fall unbidden

Swims in the creek under the bridge you cross.


The holy

Makes mystery with morning coffee

Delivers the mail and all other messages

Creates with abandon

Promises only union.


The holy

Sees the scars of every fear lying folded in our skin

Touches the memory of pain dimpled in our bellies

Smooths the asters burned on the surface of our hearts

Lifts every moment all the way to the sun.


Knowing what you know can save your life.


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Images on Retreat

Golden autumn...

photo 2



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In the Midst of a Miracle

In the midst of a miracle
I never know where to turn
I never know where to look
The soft clear colors as light streams through stained glass
The strong lines of glory rays as the sun pours through clouds
The sparkling points of brightness on the water as waves flow

The stained glass light whispers “be still”
The glory rays whisper “this is the way”
The dancing waters whisper “come and play”

In the midst of a miracle
All I really know
Is that light is always present
Around me
Within me
And most certainly
Beyond me

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The hard choice can be
Allowing the darkest night
Trusting light will come

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