Touchstone Tuesday: Poem XIX


the selections

we don’t make

are as


to our character

as the ones

we do.


(I love that this is entitled Touchstone Tuesday: Poem XIX as though I have any idea what day of the week it is. Hope it’s Tuesday!)


I don’t

know why

we ever

seek comfort;

it is always —

unwaveringly —

in the moments

of discomfort,

of yearning,

that we



Testimonies of Nature

Now that the world is silent for a moment, may we again hear the cries of the wind, the whispers of the trees, and the cadence of the river, all, and at once, singing the song of their Creator, the source of trembling power and unexpected life.


We have been


for the run —

the race —

from the moment

our feet

hit the ground.

Now we must learn

how to rest

with no one

to teach us,

for it hasn’t


been done

in our

recorded history.


The hardest won peace was never between nations, among houses, or within families. It has always been the peace that whispers in a human heart, finally, and entirely, at rest with its own nature.

Firestone Friday: Poem XXIII

None of us

thinks “I am evil,”


the world

is full

of the stuff.